In the meks shop
by Killbles
Summary: Big Mek Tankkrusha is the most powerful and influential Big Mek in WAAAGH! Groznob, so it's only natural he gets the most challenging and insane projects right?
1. Tankkrusha's Project

**A.N. While I have written most of the text outside of direct speech in unorky English, any speech will be in Orkish. THIS IS INTENTIONAL. I do not (sadly) own Warhammer 40K, orks or anything else. Games workshop does.  
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**Chapter 1: Tankkrusha's project**

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><p>Big Mek Tankkrusha set down his tools with a contented sigh. He fished a copy of his plans out of a greasy pocket and compared them to the finished battlewagon in front of him. His contentment suddenly vanished in a huff of anger. The wagon looked wrong, something wasn't quite right. His eyes widened in horror as he realized what the grots had done to his latest creation. "OI!" he yelled to the mek shop in general "Which one of you runtz put da cab on back-to-front?"<p>

Tankkrushas workshop was the biggest and most successful in the whole WAAAGH, his size and genius level of intelligence quickly putting an end to nearby competition. The Warlord of the WAAAGH, Boss Groznob, being a bit brighter than most of his fellow greenskins, had promoted Tankkrusha to the head of his own warband. Because of this the mek had all the power and resources he wanted and respect and fear from any other ork. No one would willingly tangle with Tankkrusha as they would then have to suffer the consequences (usually being 'volunteered' as an upsized grot-bomb pilot) of interfering with the warlord's top mek.

Tankkrusha's legendary intelligence had allowed Groznobz WAAAGH to expand and conquer far more than most uprising warlords. His inventions such as the Personal tellyporta had not only cemented his usefulness to Groznob but to all of Ork-kind. Right now however his great mind was failing him. His latest order from one of Groznobz warbosses had left him stupefied. The large ork had wanted a battlewagon which had "More dakka than a Battlefortress but small enuff so it don't get impe- impede-, err stuck in small spotz." In addition, the boss had still wanted it to carry lots of boys. Looking up from his plans again the Mek inspected his work.

The battlewagon was covered with guns. He wasn't sure whether there was more guns than there was wagon. He ignored the small gaggle of grots desperately trying to fix the back-to-front drivers cabin and walked around the side of the overburdened vehicle. His mind briefly wondered how he was going to fit all the ammo the guns would need but he dismissed it almost as quickly. He pulled himself up into the crowed troop bay, feeling the vehicle sag under his enormous weight. Suddenly, the vehicles straining suspension gave way underneath him sending him flying to ground. The wagon rolled over crushing a trio of grots next to it in a spray of gore. Shaking his head groggily, Tankkrusha pulled himself up with a chuckle. "Suppose I should fix dat…"

"Holy zog…" The warboss stuttered "It's… it's… bootiful!"

"Of course it is, I built it fer ya!" Tankkrusha replied boastfully

The two orks were examining the finished Battlewagon. Tankkrusha had fixed the suspension and strengthened it considerably after it had collapsed last time. He decided not to mention that to the large ork next to him. Despite being a mek, Tankkrusha was a large ork. He stood slightly over three meters high, higher if he bothered to stand up straight. Despite his impressive bulk he wasn't quite as big as the brute next to him. Not wanting to anger the boss through impatience the mek showed him around the vehicle, pointing out the go faster buttons and were all the guns were, apparently satisfied with the sheer number of guns and cannons attached to the tank, the warboss gave him a hard slap on the back. "Youz dun a gud job, but…" He trailed off "Can yer get more gunz on it?" While no self-respecting ork would ever say no, Tankkrusha baulked at the prospect of fitting more gunz on the overloaded wagon. "Well…." He also trailed off, his brain trying to figure out where another gun could go. "Not if yer want ter fit any ladz in the back" He looked around sheepishly hoping the boss wouldn't give him a punch to the jaw. Surprisingly the bosses gaze dropped to the floor with an almost disappointed look on his face. "Okay, suppoz dat'll be enuff dakka." He said. Pleased with this outcome, Tankkrusha relieved his customer of a large bag of teef before yelling to his underlings to get the wagon outside.

"Well dat went well" Tankkrusha said to himself as he walked back inside. His mind was already thinking of new and better machines to build. "OI! Gitknuckle! Get yerself over here". At this command a grot's head appeared from behind some barrels and looked around at the sound. Gitnuckle was one of Tankkrushas grot helpers, a small diminutive green creature who stood a little over a meter and a half tall, Gitknuckle pulled himself up and walked over to were Tankkrusha was standing. Although Tankkrusha would never admit it, Gitnuckle was his more useful grot assistant. "Yes boss?" he asked Tankkrusha as he neared. "I need yer to go get da ta-do-list list and see if dere's any 'uver stuff ter do. Tankkrusha watched the small creature go carry out the required task. Pulling out an old cigar from one of his pockets he started scrabbling around for a lighter until someone started smashing on the door. The sudden noise startled him but he quickly regained his composure and walked over to the large door set in the wall. "Yer, yer I'm comin ya git" he yelled over the din. He yanked the door open roughly not noticing a dozen heavy dents in it. "Yer can cut it ou..." His voice trailed off and his eyes widened at the sight in front of him. Before him stood a massive ork in an ostentatious suit of mega-armour. Standing at least 5 meters tall he towered over the mek. He realized with a pang of fear that the massive ork was eye to eye with one of his massive mega-dreads. Tankkrusha realized this was had to be Warlord Groznob himself.

Groznob peered down at the comparatively tiny mek in front of him and gave him a whack on the head. "Ooze ya callin a git?" He said, his speech punctuated by his amour servos whining in protest at his sudden movement. Tankkrusha reeled from the blow. "Er.. Yeah... Sorry boss" was all he could manage. He had no idea what the warlord wanted. He guessed that he would find out, provided he wasn't accidently crushed by the massive ork. Realising the warlord wouldn't fit through the door, Tankkrusha opened the massive shutter door next to it to allow the warlord in without wrecking his shop. Mustering up the courage to talk to the towering figure he asked "Did yer want somefing Boss?"

"No ya stupid git, I just came all da way out here just fer a squigbeer" Groznob replied, sarcasm evident in his voice. Tankkrusha was glad that was all the boss did. Most other orks would have probably got an arm ripped off for annoying the Warlord like that. "Trankkrusha," the warlord continued." I need yer to build me somefing. A huge somefing. Sumfing like one of dem humie titans"

A mental image of one of the towering human war machines popped into Tankkrusha's head. He grinned at the concept. Grabbing out a tattered notepad the mek quickly started writing. "What's it got ter do? Stomp sumfing?" he asked.

"I was gettin' to dat!" Groznob yelled, before returning to his relatively calm state. "Well it would be big. Really big. And stompy. Big and stompy. Wiff loadza gunz." The boss added as if it necessary. Orks being orks, they would naturally slap on as many gunz as they could get their hands on.

"Big an stompy wiff loadza gunz" Tankkrusha murmured to himself as he wrote it down. "I want it ter scary da 'umies and fer it to be able ter crush all 'der stuff. Like dis" He grabbed an errant grot that had the misfortune to be nearby before crushing it deftly in his palm. Although somewhat irked at the loss of another grot, Tankkrusha attention was rapt at Groznobz description of this war machine. He wondered why he had never thought of something like this before. It would be huge. Massive! Bigger than any of the titans he had seen the human's field. His vision came into sudden clarity in his mind, a huge steel behemoth towering over him, bristling with guns, big stomping feet for stomping stuff, layer upon layer of armour and countless rivits. His imagination started running wild. He suddenly noticed the warlord had stopped talking and was giving him a strange look. "Umm… sorry boss" he uttered as realized how stupid he must have looked. "Just get buildin", Groznob replied "I'll sent yer all the boyz, scrap, and gunz yer need." With that Groznob stomped out of the mek shop and into a waiting battlefortress which had somehow arrived unnoticed. Gitknuckle appeared from behind Tankkrusha with a mangled page held in front of him. "Urr… Dere's nuffin else on the da-do-list boss" the grot said oblivious to the warlord's visit. Tankkrusha just grinned widely before turning to the grot "Actually we do have sumfing. A noo' projket from Groznob"

"What iz it?" The grot asked interested, few things could get his master so excited. In response Tankkrusha shoved the notes he had scribbled down in Gitknuckle's face. Reading the notes, an insane grin crept onto the grots face.

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><p>Yay! First chapter done. Will update when I have spare time and feel like writing<p>

Please R&R! While I am confident in my own writing skills I want to know what you guys/ girls/ other think! Cookies will be distributed liberally. (Honest!)


	2. Begining of the End

**As usual I do not own anything to do with Orks or Warhammer (sadly). Games workshop does.**

Yay! Second chapter. Hope you enjoy it. I might manage to get the third chapter up later today as I got a bit carried away with writing.

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><p>Chapter 2<p>

Beginning of the End

Tankkrusha cast his eyes around the large mob of orks arrayed in front of him. He couldn't count how many there were. He couldn't count past thirty on a good day. And today had not been a good day. That morning he had trekked out from his workshop to the vast work yard outside set up outside the camp perimeter. He had started organising the unruly throng into smaller work teams. That was all he had managed. A scowl broke on Tankkrushas face at the memory. He hated organising. The workforce that Groznob had sent him far exceeded his expectations and due to this no work had even begun. Putting his brooding behind him, Tankkrusha stood up and addressed the assembled mob. "Oi! All of yer! Lissen up!" He smashed in a few nearby ork head's for emphasis. "I said shut it!". Now having the crowds full attention he continued.

"I want all of yer ta get to it! Yer know wut yer gotta do fer the day and if yer've forgotten, just do wut the chap next ta ya's doin? I'm gonna count ter 20 and if yer all ain't outta here by then I'll be bashing some heads in, yer hear?"

Desperately hoping he could remember all the numbers, Tankkrusha started counting.

Luckily for him, most of the boys were gone by the time he had counted to 8. It seemed none of them wanted to have their skulls caved in by the massive mek. Chuckling to himself at this fortunate turn of events, Tankkrusha realised that this day might not be too bad after all.

"OI! Watch what yer doing wif dat fing ya git!" Lugnutz yelled out as a piece of metal the size of a trukk landed next to him. He glared at the trio of masked burna boyz who had cut the metal sheet apart. They stared back at him, their expressions unreadable under their heavy duty masks. Lugnutz decided that it would be safer to not take them on. He was armed with only a wrench and they were all carrying their namesake burnas. All three he noticed had been switched to 'cutting' mode. He stomped off before they decided to take matters into their own hands.

Lugnutz was one of Tankkrushas apprentice meks. He wasn't as big, tough or strong as Tankkrusha was. Most of Tankkrushas other meks still towered over him. The reason he had managd to get a job with Tankkrusha was because of his ingenuity. He could always come up new ideas or new ways to solve a problem. Because of this Tankkrusha had assigned him to supervise the construction of the machines 'werky bits'. Lugnutz had come up with an inspired design for the main power generator which had even impressed Tankkrusha. His only issue was that being a bit of a runt, he couldn't 'motivate' his work team very effectively. Of course, being an ork, this problem quickly passed from his mind. If it didn't involve fighting or building, Lugnutz didn't really care. Returning to the large motor in front of him Lugnutz's problems vanished in a haze of work.

"Will it werk?" Tankkrusha asked skeptically.

"Should do boss." Lugnutz replied. Hoping desperately that his newest invention would work; he reached over to the control panel and threw a few switches. He glanced up at the device above him and prayed to Gork it wouldn't blow up. Lugnutz, while working on his generator, had stumbled upon a great discovery. He discovered that by routing a certain level of power through an energy converter he could generate a power field he had dubbed a 'lifta field'. He then discovered that channelling this field through a device, he was able to make a tractor beam. Calling this nifty device a 'Lifta-droppa' he excitedly decided to show Tankkrusha. Pulling on a few more levers he activated the device and then aimed it at a trukk parked haphazardly a few hundred meters away. Covering his eyes he pressed the big red button and hoped for the best.

Tankkruhas eyes grew wide as the trukk suddenly leapt off the ground and hovered about twenty meters in the air. "Holy zog!" He uttered. He noticed a few orks huddled underneath the trukk, starring at the hovering vehicle in confusion. They didn't realise the inherit danger of standing under a few tons of floating metal. "Can it do anyfing else?" The Big Mek asked his apprentice in an excited tone.

"Ue.. yeah… give me a moment.." He fiddeled with a few switches and turned a crank. The massive tractor beam emitter above him slowly turned to the left. The truck smoothly flew through the air caught in the beam. "Pretty good eh boss?" Lugnutz asked.

"It's amazin" Tankkrusha replied. He thought of how much fun it would be to pick a human tank and lift it high into the air before dropping it. A wild smile appeared on his face. He watched the trukk hang in the air a moment long before it suddenly fell out of the sky, crushing the unfortunate orks underneath it. "Whoops… dat wasn't supposed ter happen…" came a startled voice from next to him. Directing his gaze back at the scene of destruction Tankkrusha let out a laugh. "At least da trukk got a noo' red paint job." He replied after his laughter subsided.

Work on the machine continued. Scaffolding had gone up in the first few days. Large heavy duty cranes were built and the never ending clang of hammers, wrenches and metal hitting the ground filled the worksite. Gantries surrounded the now completed frame, teams of orks armed with rivet guns and sheets of scrap metal were steadily adding an absurd number of armour plates. Watching from his elevated position, Tankkrusha saw the yet-to-be named machine slowly climb into the sky. He had pondered on what to call the machine, but nothing he had come up with quite seemed to fit the towering mountain of steel. He noticed with a hint of satisfaction that the vast legs and feet that it would eventually stride on into battle were done, and that more of the hull was going on every day. The vast machine almost looked like an ork from the waist up, a fat ork at that. A vast pot-like belly to hold all of the machinery, crew and weapons was slowly being finished. At the edge of his vision he saw a huge multi-barrelled cannon lying on the ground. Each barrel was a full five meters wide, large enough to fit even a dreadnought down it.

Turning to his right, Tankkrusha saw the war machines massive control-head. Although unfinished the head struck awe into him. It was at least 20 meters around the base of the head and almost as tall. A massive set of iron teeth was being welded on the front. It appealed to his orky sense of nature. It was for a lack of better words, proper. It's the epitome of orkyness he thought. This realisation suddenly sparked something in his mind. Grasping this sudden surge of inspiration he suddenly saw that this machine was akin to an Idol of the ork gods, Gork and Mork. It was a personification of the gods in a machine. It showed exactly what it was to be an ork. It would be loud, stompy, shooty, tough and proper. This machine would march into battle, destroy all in its path and still want more. He suddenly had a name for it. Gargant. For some reason the world bristled with pure orkyness and power. Without a doubt this is what it was. "It's a gargant" He said, "Dunno why I didn't fink of dat before…"

Working high up above the ground was Lugnutz. He was supervising a small group of boyz installing the outer armour plates onto the frame of the massive machine. It was a dull job, the boyz were fairly proficient at the job so there hadn't been many squabbles or fights to break the monotony of the job. Stretching his neck out and looking around, Lugnutz examined the view. Any human would have said it was beautiful except for the massive death machine slowly rising from the earth. For Lugnutz it wasn't though. The ground was relatively unmarked by war and was boring. A few ork vehicles littered the ground here and there but nothing of any real interest was to be found. Just before he turned around again, something caught his eye. He looked again and suddenly saw what looked like a few dozen black marks in the sky that he swore weren't there a moment ago. Grabbing a pair of magnifiers he carried around he looked again. An aircraft heading towards him quickly snapped into view. He was momentarily confused by the crafts unfamiliar shape until he finally realised where he had seen it before. He grabbed an abused radio from behind him and contacted Tankkrusha. "Uh boss, fought ya might want ta know" His voice laden with excitement. "We'z got humies coming, loads of 'em!"

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><p>Ohhh! A terrible Cliffhanger. My apologise for ending it there but stay tuned for Part Three: Scrap in the Scrapyard.<p>

Please leave a review. Leave your opinion (regardless of how candid they may be!) as I want to know how bad/ good you think my story is.

Later!

Killbles


	3. Scrap in the Scrapyard

What is this? A second update in one day? Madness I say! Anyway this is my longest chapter so far. It;s also fairly action packed so I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

**As usual I don't own Orks or Warhammer. (Please Games workshop? Just orks Please?) Games workshop does.**

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><p>Chapter 3<p>

Scrap in the scrapyard

Tankkrusha watched in amazement as the Imperial aircraft approached. He saw squads of guardsmen jumping out the back of most of the loitering craft. He watched as one of the aircraft, a gunship by the looks of it, fired of a pair of missiles towards the gargant. They exploded in front of him in a large pile of unsorted scrap a large group of grots had been sorting. A small shower of scrap metal, blood and small green limbs rained down on him. He grinned wildly. This was a very good day. Not wasting another moment he bawled out "Grab yer gear and grab yer gunz! We'z got us a fight ladz!" All around scores of orks rushed to grab weapons. Dozens he noticed had already loaded up onto ramshackle trukks which were careening their way through scrap towards where the Imperials had dropped their troops. He grabbed any ork or grot that got close enough to him and hurled them in the general direction he wanted them to go, heedless of the fact he was on a scaffold three stories of the ground.

Klank emerged from the bowels of the gargant with a bemused expression on his face. No one knew that of course as Klank was wired into a Mega-dreadnought and his face was hidden behind nearly half a meter of metal. Standing at a bit over 6 meters high, he was a clanking monstrosity clad in thick armour plates and covered in an assortment of weapons. Klank had become a dreadnought pilot after he was 'volunteered' during an operation on a sore tooth. He had awoken to his great surprise, inside the metal can with wires sticking into his arms, legs and head. After venting his rage by destroying most of the offending Doks surgery, he had calmed down enough to be useable. Although mostly a terrifying weapon of war, the Mega-dread was also good at hauling scrap around at construction sites. That was provided the pilot could maintain control over their powerful machine. Klank flexed the rippa-claw attached to the end of his right arm as he looked around the compound. All around him boyz were grabbing guns and gear and loading into any nearby vehicles. Still none the wiser he stood watching for about a minute until a mek ran up to him, barely reaching one of his knees, and told him "There's a big fight that way! Lots of humies jumping outta da sky everywhere!" Without hesitation Klank turned the way the mek had indicated and stomped off. "If it's a fight dey wants, it's a fight dey'll get!" he yelled though the Dreadnoughts voice amplifiers as he clanked off into battle.

Klank made his way towards the battlefield smashing through piles of scrap and ramshackle buildings as if they were paper. While he was eager to test out the large bore cannon that was his left arm he was looking forward to ripping something apart with his claws even more. Smashing though a large building he suddenly found himself in the middle of a battle. Laughing insanely he let the pair of heavy flamer-throwers mounted on the walkers waist rip. A billowing cloud of flames engulfed the air in front of him. He saw through the flames a few burning humans in their final moments. He tracked another target with the cannon, the returning fire from the humans bouncing harmlessly off his armoured hull. A loud bang followed by a huge explosion announced his first shot with the cannon. "DAKKA DAKKA DAKKA DAKKA!" He yelled. The sudden appearance of the towering walker left the guardsmen in disarray, many of them starting retreating away from the seemingly unstoppable walker in their midst. Klank noticed one of them press something in their ear before yelling something he couldn't understand. Suddenly the meaning of this became clear as a gunship with what looked like a large eagle emblazoned on each wing swung down in front of him and fired. A missile came streaking through the air towards Klank and exploded against him.

Killboy leaned back against the crude chair and let his eyes droop closed. His nap was suddenly interrupted by a loud squawking from the radio in the corner of the ramshackle hut. "What da zog is it now" he grumbled to himself. He picked up the reciver. "Yer? It's Killboy wot do ya want?"

"Killboy yer zoggin' git" came the response. Killboy identified the voice as Tankkrushas

"Wot the zog do yer want?" he replied gruffly, annoyed that his nap had been disturbed

"Get yer flyboyz in da air, we'z got us a zoggin good fight over at da konstrucion yards" came the response.

Killboy's eyes widened in glee, his annoyance with the mek immediately forgotten.

"OI! KILL SKAWDRON!" He yelled " GET YER FIGHTAS UP DER NOW! WE'Z GOT A SCRAP TER GO TO!"

10 minutes later Killboy was up in the sky, rocketing towards the construction yards in his fighta 'Da Red Barun", his beady eyes scanning for any targets as he approached the worksite. He immediately spotted a small group of Imperial Vulture gunships strafing some ground targets. Flipping up the gunsight which he never used anyway, he pushed his fighter into a steep nosedive. When he was pointed in the general direction of the Vultures he pressed the red btton on his control stick. Four streams of tracers edged their way towards one of the gunships. The rounds hit something vital as the craft suddenly lost control and plummeted towards the ground in an uncontrollable spin. Roaring in triumph, Killboy remembered to pull back on the control stick and levelled out, his fighta a red streak above the battlefield. The orks on the ground cheered at his arrival. Letting out a massive whoop, he grabbed the radio. "Killboy ter Kill skawdron, let em have it ladz!" He announced unnecessarily. The Imperial aircraft responded, some of the vultures had been armed with Anti-aircraft missiles to protect the vulnerable unships from air attack. Half-dozen missiles were suddenly launched at the incoming ork aircraft blowing several fightas clean out of the sky. Killboy had managed to pull his craft into another attack run by this time and was spewing hundreds of shells towards a cluster of the Imperial craft. Much to his delight another one fell from the sky while another broke off from the group and fled the battle. The last remaining gunship spun around on its axis, displaying a large eagle painted on its wing and pointed its nose at the oncoming fighta. Jabbing the button again, a stream of shells flew towards the gunship, the majority bouncing its thick frontal armour. The stream abruptly ended, a repeated clicking sound announcing 'Da Red Barun' was out of ammo. The gunship seemed to understand it had a sudden advantage and opened on him with its nose mounted gun.

"Ah zog…" was all Killboy managed before his fighta disintegrated around him.

Klank shook off the effects of the explosion with a rough shake of his head. Peering through the walkers vision slit he wondered where the gunship had gone. A red blur, followed by a loud roar announced the arrival of several ork fightas. Figuring that they must have caused the Imperial craft to flee, Klank examined the damage dealt to his walker. While his legs and arms were fine, he noticed both of the promethium tanks suppling fuel to his flame throwers had exploded, scorching his yellow paint job. The lack of any serious damage further fuelled his believe in his own invincibility. Looking around he saw several guardsmen with shocked looks on their faces. "WAAAGH!" Klank yelled, the ork warcry being taken up by nearby greenskins until it seemed the entire battlefield was reverberating with the sound. His full fury now unleashed, Klank tore into close quarters combat, totally forgetting he still had a large gun attached to his left arm. Roaring in delight as his massive claws bisected guardsmen with frightening ease. His massive spiked feet crushed anyone (friendly or foe) too slow (or stupid enough) to get out the way into a fine red paste. "STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! STOMP!" he screamed, what left of his sanity clearly slipping away from him in his battle frenzy. It took him several minutes to realise that he had already killed everything before him. "Hur hur hur… dat was zoggin' good" Klank said, before stomping off to find something else to kill.

The Orks and the drop troops had been engaged or a little over an hour. During this time, the remaining Vultures and transports had managed to hold the orks back in most places with their impressive firepower. They were gone now. Having to return to their base to re-arm and refuel or having been shot down by the few remaining Ork aircraft. Without their air support the guardsmen on the ground quickly lost ground and fell back. Although they had killed scores of Orks, more kept arriving from nearby camps. Eventually they had no choice but to retreat or be annihilated under the veritable green tide of Orks facing them. Enacting a hasty retreat, the guardsmen fled the scrapyard, leaving it and the Gargant in the hands of the Orks.

Tankkrusha surveyed the remains of the battlefield from the cupola of his personal Meka-Dread. While similar in design to the machine Klank was piloting, there were several 'Kustom-jobs' the mek had fitted to it himself. Most noticeable was the large force-field projector on its back. The most important difference was the fact that Tankkrusha was not confined to the dreadnought like most pilots were. He was free to leave the dreadnought whenever he wanted to. While being permanently wired into the metal can gave the user great power, the downside was, well, being permanently wired into a metal can. Inhaling a deep breath, he smelt smoke from the countless burning vehicles and the smell of recently discharged weapons. Sporadic weapons fire broke the otherwise quiet battlefield as stragglers were picked off by the victorious orks. Pulling himself out of the dreadnought he landed roughly on the ground. While he would normally never dismount from his beloved machine in battle, an interesting piece of wreckage had caught his eye. Spread out in front of him was the flaming wreck of a fighta. The words crudely written under the cockpit were still visible. 'Da Red Barun'. Such a pity Tankkrusha thought as he realised this was Killboy's fighta. He had been a good flyboy, but now the zogger had gone and gotten himself killed. Walking closer to the cockpit, Tankkrusha peered inside.

The sight that greeted him was not what he was expecting. The interior of the fighta was covered in blackish-red ork blood and shot up really badly. But sitting in the pilot seat was the still breathing form of Killboy. Tankkrusha gave Killboy a rough backhanded slap across the face in an attempt to rouse the injured pilot. Groaning at the effort, Killboy opened his eyes and glared at Tankkrusha. "Yer look lovely" remarked Tankkrusha noticing one of the pilot's arms had been shot off.

"Dere's a difference between being a smart boy and a smart git" Remarked Killboy roughly, whacking Tankkrusha over the head with his amputated arm. "Don't just stand there like a smug grot and 'elp me out of 'ere." Laughing at the pilot's attitude even when he was seriously injured, Tankkrusha hauled him out of the cockpit. "When he was back on his feet, Killboy landed another blow on Tankkrushas head. "What da zog was that for?" Asked the mek angrily.

"Fer getting me fighta wrecked. Yer owe me a noo' one" Killboy replied as he stalked off to find a dok.

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><p>If you've ever read a graphic novel called 'Deff squadron' you'll know Killboy is somewaht inspired from that book. If you haven't and you like Warhammer 40K I recommend you do.<p>

Anyway, I'm aslo pleased to report in an uncontrollable fit of writing I managed to mostly finish both Chapters 4 AND 5 (I'm mad right?). They'll be up in the next few days after I proofread them and I'm sure I'm happy with the and stuff.

Thanks for reading and please leave a review! I want to know what you think!

Later!

Killbles


	4. Keeping up with the Orkses

**As usual I don't own Orks, Warhammer, The Imperial Guard and the Imperium... Games Workshop does. But they can keep their weedy 'Umies. (Just orks GW, Please?)**

Just a short little chapter between 4 & 5 detailing some stuff. Probably won't be heaps of fun to read but Chapter 5 will be!

I've released this dually with chapter 5 as I feel this leads very well it Chapter 5

Now, read on!

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><p>Chapter 4<p>

Keeping up with the Orkses

After the Imperial raid, defences around the gargant's construction site were improved. While he would never shun a good fight, like the one that the Imperial drop troops had put up, Groznob was annoyed with the delays it had caused to the gargant's construction. While little damage had been caused to the gargant itself, about a quarter of the workforce had been killed or incapacitated by the fighting in the scrap yard. On the plus side, the plethora of wrecked aircraft provided a wealth of parts for the growing gargant.

As the work on Groznob's gargant continued, word of the gargant's construction to other ork warbands on the planet. The construction of such a massive machine of war was like a Mecca for the orks. Dozens of meks visited the construction site daily, many pledging to help build the towering construction, while many others, inspired by the mountain of steel, began their own similar projects. While much smaller than the gargant, each one of these constructions were terrifying weapons of war in their own right, capable of flattening entire buildings with a single shot of their cannons. These smaller creations had been dubbed 'stompas.' Those meks who arrived and lacked the experience or resources to build such massive weapons of war made themselves content with producing dreadnoughts, trukks and battlewagons in the dozens. All this caused many rivalries between meks as each one tried to prove he was the best by outdoing his neighbour's construction. Many incidents occurred ranging from theft to cunning use of high-explosives.

Tankkrusha looked out upon the construction yards. While he used to be able to see the edge clearly, it had become obscured by a mixture of stompas, battlefortresses and other insane inventions the hundreds of meks gathered in the area had come up with. Tearing

his gaze away from the bustling yards and setting it on the almost completed gargant, he felt a great surge of pride fill his body. Despite everything ranging from Imperial bomber raids to looters nicking important parts, the gargant was nearing completion. Standing nearly a full 100 meters tall, the gargant towered over everything. At a distance it appeared to be a ramshackle mountain of iron. Up close the raw power contained within it was apparent. Attached to the end of the bulky left arm was a massive mutli-barrelled cannon. A massive crane was feeding shells with the assistance of a modified mega-dread into the massive ammunition hopper slung underneath it. The opposite arm was much more interesting. Instead of a gun, the arm ended in a massive hydrolytically powered fist. The sheer size was astounding. Tankkrusha guessed that if he wanted it to the gargant could have picked up one of the comparatively tiny stompas and hurled it across the yard. Fascinated with the idea he directed his attention towards the control head of the gargant.

Within the head, Lugnutz had mounted a larger version of his 'lifta-droppa'. After more field testing on his rivals vehicles, Lugnutz had finally perfected his design. It was powerful enough to lift a small battlefortress and send it flying. Remembering that particular test, Tankkrusha grinned wildly. It had been hilarious seeing the battlefortess being hurled across the construction yards much to its owner's dismay. He was brought of his reverie by an excited voice over the radio he realized belonged to a mek assigned to the gargant's head. "Boss! Boss!" his voice came over the radio almost in a squeal

"Yer?" He replied tersely, hoping the mek sake that he had a damn good reason to disturb him

"It's finished!" Came the short reply

"Wot's finished?" Tankkrusha asked back

"Everyfing boss! Da gargant is finished!"

A look of surprise cemented itself on Tankkrushas face. An insane grin replaced it after almost a full minute. "How 'bout we go test it out den?"

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><p>What? The gargant is finished? No way! I don't suppose Chapter 5 would feature it's field testing would it? I don't know maybe you should just read chapter 5 to find out!<p>

Thanks for reading as always, please leave a review. Any will answer any Questions, Queries or Quibbles you may have. I may accept OCs If I can fit them into the story somehow (No they don't have to be Orks but that would be preferable.)

Later!

Killbles


	5. The Hive

Not much to add here other than THIS CHAPTER WAS FUN TO WRITE. REALLY FUN. Must write more like it!

**Again I don't own the Orks, Imperial Guard, Imperium or Warhammer. I do though however own a large desire for more orks... **

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><p>Chapter 5<p>

The Hive

When Groznob had launched his invasion of Rylaz, the Warlord's hordes had conquered two of the planet's massive hives cities in a matter of weeks. Off world imperial reinforcements had so far managed to hold the rampaging hordes in check. Hive Termanalis was one of the few hives still in Imperial hands. A massive sprawling structure that reached kilometres into the sky, the hive was home to hundreds of millions of Imperial citizens and had several Imperial Guard regiments stationed there. But that was going to change.

Trooper Loric was on lookout duty. He scanned the open killing fields beyond the outer trench lines with a pair of binoculars. While the Orks hadn't launched any major attacks against Hive Termanalis recently, the tell-tale signs of battle were still present. Dozens of burnt-out Ork and Imperial tanks littered the field in front of him. He couldn't see anything further than about 600 metres away as a thick blanket of fog had crept in during the night and hadn't cleared yet. Stiffing a yawn he pocketed the binoculars and continued his rounds. Further down the wall he saw an auspex operator peer intently into the morning fog then back look down at his machine in confusion. Approaching him as quickly as he could without appearing to be worried, he directed his gaze to where the operator was looking. "What is it?" he asked.

"Don't know. I've picked up a massive object on the auspex. It's still there. See?" He said indicating to a massive blip on a screen in front of him.

"That can't be right" Loric replied "Nothing could be that big" The Auspex insisted that their mystery contact was nearly 100 meters high and just over half of that as wide and most concerning of all, moving towards them.

"Should we call it in?" asked the operator nervously.

"Yeah, I'll get one of the scouts to check it out." replied Loric. Changing his radio frequencies to one that the scout salamanders patrolling the perimeter were using, Loric informed them of the situation.

"Uh… Fire 2-4, we've got a large unknown contact registering on the auspex over in sector 12-02. Can you go and check it out? "

A brief confirmation came from the nimble vehicle and Loric saw the scout skilfully manoeuvring towards the contact and vanish into the fog. A minute passed. Nothing. Five minutes passed. The auspex contact was still stubbornly there although it appeared to be much closer than he remembered. The lack of radio contact from the scout was unnerving. "Uh Fire 2-4… you found anything?" All he got was static. "Fire 2-4 come in". He was rewarded with more static. "Fire 2-4… do you copy?" Nothing. He turned to the auspex operator. "I've lost contact wi-…" He was interrupted by a loud crunching sound. His brain refused to accept what his eyes had seen. He had seen a salamander, undoubtedly Fire 2-4, come flying through the air and crush the unfortunate auspex operator next to him. The sound of the man's messy demise was cut off by the salamander's hull smashing into the lip of the wall. Recoiling in horror at the scene in front of him he fell backwards. It was then when he noticed a subtle trembling in the ground following what sounded like large footfalls, which he numbly realised he had been hearing all morning. He had the mistaken the sound for machinery in the hive. Pulling himself up off the ground he looked through the fog towards where the auspex had registered the target. The scene in front of made his eyes widen in horror. A massive war machine of orkish construction was emerging from the thick fog and was powering towards the hive on two short stubby legs. Two massive arms, one ending in a gigantic fist and the other in an enormous six barrelled cannon were attached to its fat body. Around the war machine strode at least a dozen smaller versions of it. Each one he realized with was at least 20 meters high. The whole scale of the situation clicked into place when he realized the tide of green around the base of the machines stretching as far as the eye could see. In horror he reached for the radio. "Command this is Sentry 6 we have a massive ork assault heading towards to hive, sectors 9-3 to 12-10!"

"Say again trooper" came the startled response "How many Orks?"

"I hav-"was all Loric managed to say before the impossibly huge machine fired its main gun at the wall under him, obliterating him and the wall in an instant.

Perched in an observation post on the upper levels of the gargant, Tankkrusha marvelled at the destruction his machine had caused. One shell from the main gun had forced a massive breach in an otherwise undamaged wall. Not content to leave it at that, he yelled down one of the communication tubes which he thought lead down to the control room. "Fire! Fire! All the dakka we got!"

His command was met with another titanic boom as the main gun fired again, punctuated by smaller cracks as the gargant's countless secondary weapons opened fire. A string of explosions blossomed along the imperial lines ripping apart tanks, trenches, bunkers, artillery and infantry with equal ease. The gargant's smaller brethren charged forward, more nimble than the hulking giant, and engaged the Imperials with equal enthusiasm. Hordes of boys, too numerous to count charged towards the imperial lines in a tidal wave of green flesh which swamped the remaining guardsmen. Another boom shook the battlefield as the gargant targeted a super-heavy imperial tank which had trundled into view. The tank just ceased to exist. Its strong armour no match for the sheer power of the gargant's shots. The Ork crew cheered at the impressive display of firepower. Suddenly a ball of blue flame, too bright to look at smashed into a stompa leading the formation, obliterating the war machine in a massive explosion. Several others went up in flames from similar shots. Searching for the source of this immense firepower, Tankkrushas eyes fell upon another war machine, undoubtedly Imperial, marching towards them.

"Oi! Mekboy!" came a yell from the control room "What's that zoggin' fing?"

"Dunno, but it's dead shooty" Tankkrusha replied in awe. As the Titan vaporised another Stompa with what appeared to be a purple-tinted laser.

While the Imperial titan barely stood over 70 meters high, its firepower was much greater than anything the orks fielded.

"Noo' target!" Tankkrusha yelled, "Big stompy fing' over dere, five rounds rapid!" gesturing in the vague direction of the Titan.

The gargant turned with surprising agility and unleashed another rain of fire on the advancing Imperial machine. Many of the shots went wide but a few struck the machine. The main gun fired again, nearly deafening Tankkrusha. The shot sailed into the titan and suddenly exploded a good 50 meters away from its hull. Tankkrusha cursed as he realised the machine had a force field of some kind. "Orright, noo plan!" he yelled "CHARGE!" Relaying the information to the engine room the gargant picked up a sudden burst of speed, crushing countless other orks in its haste to close the distance. The titan realizing the danger shifted fire onto the lumbering behemoth. Large chunks of the gargant's armour melted away from the immensely powerful shots. But it was too late to stop it. The gargant swung out at the Titan with its right arm. In a stunning display of agility, the gargant's fist wrapped around one of the titans arms and in a single tug ripped it clean out of its socket. The titan fired another shot at point-blank range into the gargant opening up another gaping hole in the hull. Something vital was hit as a large explosion rocked the gargant. Undaunted, the gargant started to beat the Titan to scrap, with its own arm. Tankkrusha savoured the irony of the action as entire sections of the titan buckled and snapped under the furious rain of blows. Unable to withstand any more abuse, the titan toppled and fell onto one knee. The gargant dropped the Imperial titan's arm and ripped the head off the mighty machine in a shower of sparks, before throwing it in the general direction of the hive like a child would discard a toy. Without any control the titan fell over with the force of an earthquake. Even from his position high up in the gargant, Tankkrusha felt the ground rumble. "What now boss?" the voice asked up the tube.

Turning to the hive, he gestured unnecessarily "Tear it down"

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><p>Hahaha! That Titan was like a chew toy! Just wait till I get to bigger stuff! And if any of you are wondering why the stompas went down so easily compared to the gargant, two reasons. One: They were redshirts (and tiny) and Two: The gargant had plot immunity.<p>

Thanks for reading! Anyway I really enjoyed writing this, so please leave a review and tell me what you think. In my excitement I _also_ wrote Chapter 6 so that will probably go up within a day or two.

Later!

Killbles


	6. Lootin' n' crashin'

Yay chapter 6! Lots of cool new stuff.

**You know the drill, I don't own Orks, The Imperial Guard, The Imperium or Warhammer 40K. Games Workshop does, and for some reason they refuse to let me have it.** =C

Now, Read on!

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><p>Chapter 6<p>

Lootin' n' Crashin'

After the battle for Termanalis Hive had ended, the Orks went on what could only be called a looting spree. Luckily, Tankkrusha had the foresight to reserve the best bits for himself and his boyz. It wasn't too hard to enforce his claim to any parts as he had a gargant to back him up against any ork plucky enough to challenge him.

The best thing he had acquired though was by far the Imperial titan. Although severely damaged in the brawl against the gargant, which had now been imaginatively named _'Titun-smasha'_, it was mostly still intact. Of most interest to the Mek though were the weapons and shields it carried. Although Tankkrusha knew how to build a force field, the one the Imperial titan had were much stronger than anything he had ever seen before. He intended to figure out how they worked and augment _'Titun-smasha'_ with them. His first task though was to stand the fallen hulk back on its feet. Over the course of a few days, a massive scaffold was assembled to hold the titan in place once it was re-righted. Re-righting the titan itself would fall upon _'Titun-smasha' _as nothing else had the power to lift the massive Imperial war machine. Materials with which to repair both walkers were in no shortage thanks to the nearby hive the Orks were enthusiastically ransacking. Tankkrusha watched in hardly concealed anticipation as the gargant made ready to lift the Imperial titan. A large figure appeared behind Tankkrusha and watched on in interest.

"Wot's goin' on 'ere den?" Warlord Groznob asked as the _'Titun-smasha'_ began to haul the Imperial titan to its feet.

"We'z gonna fix it up all good an proper" Tankkrusha pointing at the titan.

"Why?" responded the warlord. Thinking obviously wasn't one of his strong points.

"Well da only fing better dan one gargant is two gargants, am I roight boss?"

"Yeah you got dat right" Groznob responded as the Imperial titan was slowly lifted.

"It ain't gonna be az proppa as da furst 'un, but it'll be a lot shootier." Tankkrusha added.

Groznob nodded in agreement but said no more.

Both Orks watched intently as the titan was finally placed upright against the scaffolding and secured in place.

"Jobs a gud 'un boss!" Tankkrusha stated cheerfully as the work crews began the conversion process.

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><p>As repairs and upgrades continued on both of Groznob's gargants, a certain flyboy flew a certain new red aircraft on patrol. Not that he'd say he was on patrol. Killboy would insist he was 'On a mission ter find more humies ter stomp'. Regardless, Killboy wasn't even doing that. He was too busy admiring his new aircraft Tankkrusha had somehow found the spare time to build for him. It was bigger than 'Da Red Barun' but still just as fast. The craft which Tankkrusha had called a Fighta-bomba was more versatile than his fighta as well. It had more wing hard points for bombs and rockets, a rear facing turret crewed by a grot and most importantly for killboy, more guns on the front. Crudely painted under the nose were two names. While he had originally planned to call his new fighta-bomba <em>'Tankkrushas revenge'<em> halfway through writing it down Killboy had forgotten how to spell it. Irritated, he then re-named it 'Da Red Barun 2'. Flexing his new cybernetic arm Killboy pushed the nose of his fighta-bomba down as he spotted some movement on the ground. Flying in closer he saw a small convoy of human vehicles. Deciding that now would be a good time to test his new weapons; Killboy put his aircraft in a near vertical nosedive and plummeted towards the vehicles.

Spotting his incoming aircraft the vehicles tried to scatter. Killboy couldn't tell what sort of vehicles made up the convoy at this point but he honestly didn't care. Flicking a few switches on the panel in front of him he felt the bombs attached to his wing hardpoints detach and soar towards the scattering convoy. Placing enough faith in the fact he'd dropped enough bombs to hit something, Killboy lined up what looked a troop transport and opened fire. The heavy calibre rounds punched through the weak top armour and the tank exploded in a large fireball. Looking behind him, he saw his bombs explode. Another transport had been hit, the bomb luckily (or unluckily for the guardsmen inside) falling through an open hatch to detonate inside the APC. He saw a truck flip through the air as another bomb landed near it. The other bombs were ineffective, either exploding harmlessly against armour or missing completely. Pulling _'Da Red Barun 2'_ around for another run he noticed one of the tanks turrets swivel around to track his fighta-bomba. With a feeling that he was staring right down all four barrels on the turret, Killboy released one of the rockets hanging under his wings at the tank. The tank opened fire at almost the same moment. The rocket amazingly was on target and ripped the tank apart like ripe fruit. However the AA tank's own shells were already en-route and punched into the lightly armoured flier. A shriek from behind him told Killboy that the grot gunner had been hit. A dozen other shells ripped through the hull causing the fighta-bomba to lurch wildly. Deciding that he had tempted fate enough for the day, Killboy turned his flyer back the way he had come.

As he approached the landing strip something happened. One of his wings, damaged by the flak, decided that that now was the perfect moment to fall off sending his fighta-bomba into an uncontrolled spin. It ploughed into the ground just short of the landing strip, throwing Killboy out of the cockpit before flipping over and exploding in a spectacular fireball.

"Not again…" Killboy uttered before passing out.

Killboy was woken by a rough back-handed whack across the face. Looking up he saw Tankkrusha standing over him with an amused expression his face. "Look mate," he said waving one of Killboy's legs at him "Yer really gotta stop losin' yer limbs. Dey's useful."

Snorting in amusement at his own joke, Tankkrusha looked over at the flaming wreck of his fighta-bomba. "An' stop wreckin' me fightas, I just built dat one!"

"Shut it, ya git" was all that Killboy could manage in response.

Tankkrusha helped him stand before taking him in the general direction of the Dok's. "Guess yer want a noo' fighta?" Tankkrusha asked

"Na, I want a zoggin' truck, yer genius" Killboy snapped back, his voice laden with sarcasm.

Feeling a moment of nostalgia, Tankkrusha escorted the wounded flyboy away from the crash site.

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><p>Work continued apace on the newest weapon in Groznob's arsenal with an enthusiasm which could only be described as… insane. Entire mobs of boys scrambled over the Imperial titan 'orkifying' it where ever possible. Large glyphs, unnecessary rivets, jagged spikes, rusting armour plates, extra exhaust stacks, muzzle loudeners the whole nine-yards. The former Imperial war machine became a gargantuan Ork effigy in the space of a week. It was during this time that Groznob approached Tankkrusha with another project.<p>

"This 'ere is yer noo' projekt Tankkrusha" said the Ork warlord, handing the mek a barely legible piece of paper. "Sorry 'bout da mess, I fink I aksidently used it when I went ta da drops" The warlord added when the mek looked at the brown paper with a look of what could only be described as a mix or horror, revulsion and worry.

"Can't yer just tell me 'bout it?" asked Tankkrusha, he didn't want to have be anywhere near the paper.

"Can't do dat!" Groznob replied his voice now a deadly whisper, "It's a sekret projekt"

His curiosity overcoming his fear of where the paper had been, Tankkrusha cautiously took the scrap and began to decipher its contents. "But boss dis is a-" He was abruptly cut off by a fierce blow to the head from the warlord.

"Shut it yer zogger, I said it's a sekret!" the warlord bellowed, quite unaware that any ork in earshot (i.e a lot) would now know he had a sekret project planned.

"But boss!" Tankkrusha complained "Even if I could build it, oo' da zog would be mad enuff ter fly it?"

"Kill skwadron" The warlord replied confidently, "oo' else?"

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><p>Wot? Anuvvuver projekt? Yes indeed! What is it? *Whacks over the head* Can't tell you that, it's a secret... for now.<p>

Anyway thanks for reading! Please leave a review and tell me what you think. I'd love some feedback from you lot.

Until then...

Later!

Killbles


	7. Sneaky gitz and flyin' fings

**Dis' weedy git Killbles don't own us proppa Orks or anyfing else da do wif Warhammer** **40K yer hear? Games Workshop does, dem no gud gitz."**

"Oi' yer mangy gitz dis is chapta...chapta... err wot chapter is it?"

"Sevun boss"

"Roight, Dis 'ere is chapta sevun. It's dead good so read it and ruview it, or else" *cracks knuckles*

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><p>Chapter 7<p>

Sneaky gitz and flyin' fings

"Er, Tankkrusha, what are yer doin'?" asked Killboy in a confused voice. Yelping in surprise Tankkrusha dropped the beaten clipboard he has holding.

"Erhh… Nuffing dat's yer business" He replied as a trio of grots trundled past him, each pushing a wheel that were bigger than themselves.

"Dat dun look loike nuffin'" Replied Killboy trying to sneak a peek behind the Ork mek.

"Cut it out, yer git" Tankkrusha replied gruffly, belting Killboy on the head for emphasis.

Rubbing his head in irritation, Killboy stalked off towards the pub, probably to start some fight Tankkrusha guessed. As he strode off, Tankkrusha noted that his new bionic leg was still causing him some issues. Smirking at the flyboy's discomfort, Tankkrusha bent down and pick up his clipboard. Scratching his head in confusion, he tried to remember what the grots had just brought in. "Oh yeah," he muttered absent mindedly "More wheelz"

Killboy brooded over his fungus beer. He wanted to know what that mek was up to. Unlike many orks, Killboy occasionally noticed things that happened in front of him. He had noticed that the mek had set up shop at a specially built airfield. In addition, whatever this 'Sekret projekt' was, it was massive. '_Too big to be a new fighta for me'_, Killboy thought. The hanger that Tankkrusha was confined to was bigger than a small settlement. "I'z gonna find out wut he's planning" Killboy muttered to himself. He was brought out of his brooding by an Ork crashing into him from behind. Seizing the opportunity to have a scrap, Killboy rounded on the boy. "Oi, watch where yer goin' ya git!" He yelled, before delivering a solid punch to the surprised Ork's jaw. For no apparent reason the rest of pub suddenly broke down into chaos. Everyone fighting everyone for no reason other than for the hell of it. Killboy grinned in delight as he floored another ork with his augmetic fist. '_This was a good fight!'_ He thought as he cut a swathe through his foes.

That night, Killboy set out towards to hanger, being as sneaky as he possible could be (which for him was about as subtle as a brick). Suddenly wishing he was kommando, he snuck towards the brightly illuminated hanger. Picking his way through piles of scrap as stealthily as he could, (again, the subtlety of a brick comes to mind) Killboy managed to get close to the hanger without being seen by one of the sentries on duty. Checking that the coast was clear, Killboy snuck up to one of the doors around the hanger. He was about to open it when a loud metallic voice broke the relative silence. "OI, YER AIN'T SUPPOSED TO BE 'ERE. ZOG OFF!" Looking around, Killboy saw a mega dread stomping towards him. "Not again…" Killboy said, before the dread reached out for him with a giant claw.

"IT DID WOT?" Tankkrusha bellowed with laughter.

"It took 'alf me body off" Killboy replied. He cautiously poked his new cybork body with worry. He was running out of organic parts quickly and at this rate, he would be more machine than Ork.

Tankkrusha gave up attempting to stifle his laughter as another wave of mirth broke through him. When he had finally managed to calm down enough he managed to say. "Well that'll teach yer not ter stick yer nose in uvver people's business."

"Yeah somefing like dat" Killboy said shaking his head. "I'm never goin' over dere again."

Confident that there would be no more break-in attempts from the now mostly cybernetic flyboy, Tankkrusha left the clinic, still chuckling at the turn of events.

On his way back to the hanger, Tankkrusha saw a stompa that had been damaged in the battle for the hive being slowly repaired. _'Deys ain't too fast are dey, Always gettin' shot up before dey can get stuck in.'_ he thought to himself. He stood there pondering, when suddenly an ork attached to a rocket pack came streaking out of the sky and crashed into a building next to him. A few shouts and thuds told Tankkrusha that the occupants were less than happy about the stormboys sudden arrival. The stormboy staggered outside groggily before taking off again with a loud cheer. Fishing a cigar out of his pockets he found his thoughts being drawn to the rocket pack. _Wat if…_ he suddenly thought his eyes opening wide with surprise at the amazing idea forming in his head. His cigar forgotten, he raced back to his mek shop.

"What da zog is dat" Groznob said, pointing at the machine in front of him. Standing in front of Groznob was a medium size stompa, about 20 meters high.

"Itz a Storm-stompa boss" replied Tankkrusha proudly

"Wots it do?" the warlord stated, his brain not making the connection between the two names.

"I'll show ya" He yelled a few choice words at the handful of boys milling around. The crew quickly climbed into the stompa and took their positions. With a nod and a thumbs up to the stompa's boss in the control head, Tankkrusha turned to the warlord "Yer might want ter back up a bit boss." The two orks fled about a hundred meters away from the now mobile stompa.

"Tankkrusha ta Storm-stompa", Tankkrusha yelled into a small radio "Iz see a good target, about 500 meetahs dat way" He gestured towards a large vehicle wreck off in the distance, "When ya ready light it up!"

"I see it, and boss?"

"Yeah?"

"Wot's a meetah?"

"Zoggin' hell" Tankkrusha muttered to himself. He covered his face with his palm in a curious display of exasperation.

The stompa clumsily turned around, its back now facing the two ork leaders. It was now that Groznob realized it had something on its back. A huge rocket he noticed dumbly. Suddenly the name of the machine made sense. "Err… Tankkrusha is dat a-" was all the Warlord managed to say before the rocket ignited with a deafeningly loud roar. The stompa suddenly shot up into the air with a loud WAAAGH coming from its voice amplifiers. The Stompa shot off through the sky in the direction of the wreck, which now Groznob realized was another stompa. The Storm-stompa he realized, now seeing its feet, had specially designed feet which looked like giant talons. Amazingly, the Storm-stompa landed on the other stompa feet-first with a deafening crash and shrieks of tortured metal, cutting through the wrecked machine like a knife through hot butter. The stompa then continued its destructive rampage by using its two large arms which had been fashioned into crude close combat weapons to rip the remainder of the other stompa apart. Groznob was speechless, his jaw slack in surprise.

Tankkrusha watched the Warlords' face with amusement. He stifled a laugh. He knew that would get him in trouble. Controlling himself, he asked the stupefied Groznob "What da yer fink boss?"

A grin slowly grew on Groznobz face. "Build more!" he yelled.

The success of the Storm-stompa was noticeably. Weeks after the demonstration to Groznob, roughly 20 stompas were re-built into the insane flying machines and many more still to be made. While the design wasn't perfect and a couple of stompas had either lost control or suddenly exploded (much to the amusement of any spectators), the insane prospect of having a flying stompa appealed to almost every ork.

Although the Storm-stompa had been a resounding success, Tankkrusha had to palm it off to one of his underlings. He still had to work on the 'Sekret Projekt'. After making some minor design changes to the project after his invention of the Storm-stompa, Tankkrusha had guessed that he could have the project wrapped up in under a week.

A week passed. Slowly.

But after countless, rivets, glyphs, engines and hilarious accidents involving grots and engine exhausts, it was finished.

Three Orks walked towards the massive doors set into the front of the hanger. In the middle of the trio, Warlord Groznob was busy explaining to Killboy that Kill skwadron was now going to be Groznob's personal flyboyz. Tankkrusha ignored them. He was rubbing his palms together nervously. He kept thinking of how he could have made it better. _Maybe I should've tightened that rivet more_, _ope da 'ole fing doesn't fall apart. _In a moment of fourth-wall awareness he mentally whacked the author on the head for making him have such an absurd thought. This was his best work. Even better than the gargant he had built earlier. Putting his thoughts behind him, he noticed the other two Orks were looking at him with expectant looks on their faces. "Oh roight," he mumbled. Pressing a button, the vast doors started sliding open with a sound of groaning metal that put a crash landing Storm-stompa to shame. As the doors parted they revealed a shadowed monstrosity. If it could detach itself, Tankrusha as fairly sure that Killboy's jaw would have been on the ground in shock. Reclaiming his slack jaw, Killboy stuttered. "Flaming Mork boss, I…. It's… It's… Boo… Bootiful!" Snapping out of his stupor, he quickly snapped an unnecessary and highly unorky salute. "Kill skwadron ready fer action, wot's da mission Boss!"

Chuckling quietly to himself, Groznob leaned over to the mek and whispered "Fought he would say dat."

Tankkrusha just grinned back.

* * *

><p>Sorry about that at the top... My Orks broke out their case and thought my little foreword wasn't 'Proppa' enough.<p>

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed Chapter 7 as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you've picked up on the not too subtle hints i've been throwing in you should have a pretty good idea of what the secret project is. All will be revealed next chapter!

Any Comments, Criticism, Complaints, Queries or Quibbles, please PM me or leave a review. I'd like to know what you think.

Having a lot more RL stuff now (University as stepped up a bit) will probably slow my updates a bit, but I'll try and update this on a weekly basis.

Anyway thanks for reading!

Later!

Killbles


	8. Da Sekret Projekt'

Oh goody! Another update. The Secret project is revealed! Muhahaha. No really, it's stonking awesome.

**As usual, I don't own Orks, The Imperium or anything to do with Warhammer.**

Now, read on!

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><p>Chapter 8<p>

'Da Sekret Projekt'

"Flaming Mork Boss, I…. It's… It's… Boo… Bootiful!" Killboy stuttered. Snapping out of his stupor he threw an unnecessary and highly unorky salute. He didn't notice the two other orks whisper something between them. He was too busy admiring at the marvel of orky technology in front of him.

Lying in the centre of the hanger, or more correctly filling the entire hanger was an aircraft. To Killboy's eye it looked like a bomber of some kind but much, much bigger than any other he had ever seen. He estimated that the wingspan was at least four hundred meters wide. He noticed on the wing hard points where bombs would usually be mounted was a squadron of fightas. The fact that this monstrosity carried full sized Ork aircraft on its wings spoke volumes for its size. The next thing that caught Killboy's attention was the guns. The sheer number of guns, rockets, missiles, cannons, energy cannons and bombs that the flier carried blew him away. A heavy quad autocannon was mounted on the nose, each barrel was big nearly enough to him to walk down. At least fifteen other auto-cannons of various calibres were mounted in similar ways on the nose itself. The sides were literally bristling with 'shootas' for point defence. Along the dorsal line of the aircraft, Killboy could see the barrels of at least two dozen large anti-aircraft cannons. The interiors of the wings, each one at least ten meters thick, were crammed full of rockets and missiles of various shapes and sizes. A few ork Koptas buzzed around the giant aircraft hauling weapons into position. The entire aircraft was at least 300 meters long and to Killboy looked like a massive whale. At a loss of words, the flyboy turned back to the Mek Boss and the Warlord.

"So whenz do I get ter fly it?" Killboy asked. While he was trying to concentrate on the conversation on hand, his eyes kept drifting back to the Supa-Bomma parked in the hanger.

"Soon" Tankkrusha replied, "We'ze still got sum cali- calurbr- .. ur.. testin' ta do on sum of da engines, fink it might have sumfing ter do wif all da Grot riggers dat got sucked in yesterday." Despite the gruesome demise of the grots fresh in his mind, Tankkrusha was grinning. "It'z gonna be dead good, you'z gonna luv it."

Several hours later, the engines had been unclogged, the Supa-bomma roared into life. The deep growl of its engines seemed to shake the room itself. Seated at the control stick, Killboy pushed the throttle slightly forward. The massive engines slowly overcame the Bomma's inertia and it started rolling forward. Rolling out onto the massive runway, Killboy did a hasty pre-flight check.

"We'ze got fuel?" He asked to his Co-pilot

"Check"

We'ze got Ammo fer da gunz?"

"Check"

"Dem aeralon fings on da wings wurkin'?"

"All good boss"

"Wot about dem 'hidrolics', Dey wurkin good?"

"Green across da board"

"Brakes?" Killboy added.

"Wot?"

"Ya know fings dat make yer stop?"

"We'ze got dose?"

Killboy didn't know whether to sigh or laugh.

Assuming that everything was in order Killboy, waited until the big aircraft's nose was pointing down the runway before pushing the throttle all the way forward into the position marked 'WAAAGH!' Slowly but surely the Bomma gained speed, and eventually took off. Banking towards the right, Killboy started the testing.

"Roight, first up is testin' da payload, Yer up and flyin' about like an ugly squig so I assume everyfing is werkin' da way itz supposed ter." Tankkrusha's voice announced over the radio. Tankkrusha gave Killboy and his crew directions to the test site. The site was covered in old vehicles which were beyond repair. Killboy saw an occasional smudge of green, undoubtedly grots which had been volunteered by their masters as practice targets. "Now dere's nuffin fancy about yer normal payload so skip over dat", came Tankkrushas voice again. "I want yer ta hit da button marked 'Specul Load'." Killboy fond the button without difficulty, it was a big bright red button. "Testin' 'specul load' now" Killboy announced while mashing the button. A loud clunk came from the bomma, followed by two more as whatever the payload was released. Three loud booms suddenly followed. "Holy zog, is dat a Storm-stompa?" asked the incredulous Co-pilot as a trio of large metal streaks powered away from the bomma towards the ground at insane speeds. "Crazy old git." Killboy remarked, seeing Tankkrushas second favourite invention fall towards the ground. Returning to the controls, Killboy waited for instructions for the next test.

"Roight, dat was dead good. One of a da stompas landed on its 'ead but dat was a gud laugh anyway." Tankkrusha laughed before continuing. "Second test shood be betta, if yer look around yer, ya should notice yer now got some more flyboyz up there wif ya."

True enough a dozen Fightas had slotted into a somewhat protective screen around the bomma. "Now we'z gonna test 'ow well da Bomba can take Kombat, I'z sending up more flyboyz now. Now dey is using live rounds, so make sure yer bring da bomma back in one piece." Relishing the chance to have a fight, Killboy grabbed the transmitter and yelled out, "Killboy ter all gunz, We'z got enemy fightas inbound, light 'em up ladz!" Almost immediately after his announcement, twenty ork fightas appeared, gunz blazing. Their defensive screen of fightas broke off to engage their fellow flyboyz in battle. Noticing that one of his turrets wasn't firing, Killboy grabbed the radio again and barked

"Dorsal Turrets, which one of yer isn't shootin' dem like all the others?"

"Uh, me boss… 'Ow we supposed ta know oo's on our side and oo' ain't?"

"Listen karefully and I'll tell yer 'ow itz done," Killboy replied "You shoot an yer miss itz one of ours and if yer hit it must be one of theirs, dead simple see?"

"Got it boss, works a charm dat does" Came the reply, punctuated by gunfire.

"Fraggin' Rookies, Don't dey teach im anyfing in trainin' skool these days?" Killboy fumed

"We gotz a trainin' skool? 'Ow longs dat been goi-" The Co-pilots response was cut short by Killboy's augmetic fist smashing him in the jaw.

Needless to say, despite Ork accuracy being ….well Ork accuracy, the vast number of gunz the bomma had was enough to drive off the attacking fightas. The bomba was hardly damaged thanks to thick armour plating designed to withstand hits from ground based anti-aircraft emplacements. Because of this, the bomma landed without causing too much damage (although it did manage to crush a couple of unlucky fighta-bombs under its wheels.) As Killboy descended from the access ladder, he was met by an ecstatic Tankkrusha and a slightly less ecstatic Groznob. "Dat was zoggin gud" Killboy said as he descended the last few rungs.

"Well glad yer liked it cause you'ze got a noo mission." Groznob replied, trading glances with Tankkrusha.

"Wot?" asked Killboy somewhat surprised.

"You'll see…" replied the Warlord.

As this test was conducted something else was happening in orbit.

'_Kogtoof'_ was a Savage Gunship, one of the small but numerous ships used by the invading ork forces. While most of Groznob's ships such as his flagship were in geostationary orbit around the major landing zones on the planet's surface, Kogtoof and two similar ships were on picket duty in the outer edges of the solar system. Although little action had taken place after the massive ork armada had torn through the Imperial Navy's blockade, the Gunships still occasionally found stray merchant ships or other easy targets. Kaptain Kutta sat in his bridge, watching the other orks go about their business. It had been a boring patrol, but something had caught his interest. His crude sensors had detected a spike in warp radiation out here. What that meant he did not know, but he was soon going to find out

"KAPTAIN!" One of the orks manning a station yelled out "WE'ZE GOT SUMFING!"

Looking at the pict-screen out into space, the ork captain saw dozens of Warp portals suddenly appear, almost on top of the ork gunship squadron. A few moments later, a ship emerged, then another and then another, until suddenly over fifty Imperial ships had appeared in system. He saw one of the Ork gunships, _'Tuff stuff'_ torn apart by the bow of a massive Imperial battleship at least 8 kilometres long. Ploughing through the wreckage like it was nothing, the battleship moved on. Recoiling in horror at the scene in front of him, Kutta sent a message to the orbiting ork fleet before the Imperials could target him. His last order was "LETS LEG IT!" before his ship was torn apart by the flotilla's guns.

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><p>WOT? More stinking 'umies? Fought we'z had enuff of dem already! Dis writta is no gud if yer as...<p>

Hey get back in your case!

Sorry again... Enthusiastic lot Orks are... Anyway I hope you enjoyed, please leave a review, I would love to hear what you have to say about my usual if you have any Queries, Questions or Quibbles, feel free to send me a message.

Later!

Killbles


	9. A game of ships and missiles

First off, Chapter 9 Woooo! This is my longest chapter so far (about 2500 words) and is very different to the others so far. A space battle always seemed like a fun thing to write and maybe I'll write more in the future.

**As usual I don't own Warhammer, Orks, The Imperium, Space marines are anything like that. Games Workshop does.**

**YOU DON'T HAVE TO READ THIS BIT OF THE A/N BUT I WOULD RECOMMEND YOU DO SO YOU CAN UNDERSTAND EVERYTHING IF YOU ARE NOT FAMILIAR WITH WH40K AND/ OR BATTLE FLEET GOTHIC  
><strong>

Now I'm drawing most of the inspiration for this from a game called Battle fleet Gothic which is a table top game like Warhammer except instead focusing on ship to ship combat. I also need to make a few points clear as not everything is really explained to well. Firstly these battles take place at ranges in the thousands of Kilometers, even point blank range is a few hundred Kilometers distant. So just keep that in mind when reading this.

Secondly just to explain what a space hulk is. It's more a less a massive jumble of asteroids, Ships, wrecks and other stuff fused together by the warp. They drift around and are usually infested with aliens of some description but some are empty. The orks capture these hulks when ever they can (usually at the outset of a Waaagh! if they are lucky) and use them as a combination of a massive transport capable of holding millions of orks and vehicles and as massive battleships. By massive I mean massive. Most are at LEAST 20km in size (by comparison, the largest Imperial ship measures about 8km from Bow to Stern). Invariably they are covered in launch bays, guns and other stuff so they are exceptionally strong in a fight.

Thirdly, I'll quickly explain some weapons. Weapon batteries are fairly self explanatory. Lances are effectively powerful lasers turned up to 11. They will make your day very bad if they hit an unshielded ship. Torpedos are well, torpedos. These ones are much bigger, at least 50m long and usually tipped with a plasma warhead. A few of these can cripple large ships. Nova cannons are effectively massive rail-guns that run the entire length of a ship. They fire slugs at a fraction fo the speed of light and do immense damage.

Lastly, I'll just explain ship classes. Escorts are small ships that work in squadrons of about 5+ to bring down larger ships and protect the large ships from other escorts. They range from about 1km to 2km in size. Cruisers are the next step up, they range from about 4-5km in length and are powerful ships in their own right. Next is the battleships which are rare and very powerful. They are rare due to the resources needed to build them. Most range from about 7-8km in length and are exceptionally powerful. Battle barges are a Space Marine equivalent to Battleships. They are better armed and armoured and have Space Marines as crew so they kick ass, They can also transport a couple of hundred marines into battle.

**UNNEEDED BACKGROUND STUFF ENDS HERE**

Now! Read on!

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><p>Chapter 9<p>

A game of ships and missiles

Dakwod looked out impassively at the approaching imperial fleet. A second wave of Imperial vessels had emerged from the warp and bolstered the original strike force. Unlike many other Orks, Dakwot had a vague understanding of what the Imperial ships did and what was what. Then again, being the Captain of Groznob's Space Hulk, _'Da Wurld Breaka' _and being the overall fleet commander had allowed him to gain vast amounts of combat experience. Staring out at the Imperial fleet, he counted the vessels his fleet was arrayed against. He counted 127 Imperial vessels, which of at least forty were lightly armed transports or resupply vessels. While this did even the odds slightly, Dakwot noticed a blue Space Marine Battle Barge amongst the imperial fleet. While Dakwot had several hundred ships under some form of command, he knew that the presence of such a powerful ship of war meant it wouldn't be an easy fight. He weighed up the odds. '_Deyz got loadz of shipz,_ he thought, _I fink dat one iz an Emperor Class battleship, and deyz got a lot of kroozers. Wotz we got? Da hulk, and a foo battleships, most of dere ships ain't much bigga dan ours so it should be good, just gotta watch out fer dat Battle barge._ Drawing up his battle plans, which more or less involved closing the distance to the imperial ships as fast as possible, Dakwot prepared for battle.

"Admiral, the ork fleet has changed vector, they are now on a direct course with the bulk of the fleet." A young officer reported.

"Thank you", replied Admiral Tiberius "our plan remains unchanged. Can I have an update on the Xeno Space hulk?"

"Yes sir, according to our records, the hulk is 'The Spirit of Vengeance' under control of the Ork warlord Groznob. At the moment we are unaware of its combat capabilities, although scans have indicated that the hulk has several large hanger bays, a significant number of heavy and light weapon batteries and what appears to be a large lance array along its dorsal lines."

"Thank you, pass this information onto Admiral Novilias, I'm sure he would appreciate this information. As if on cue, the communication channel opened and a fuzzy image of the Space Marine admiral appeared.

"Admiral Tiberius, we will be entering engagement range in an hour, have you anything to report?" he asked, his voice booming across the vox.

"No sir, I have had recent scan data of the ork hulk forwarded to you."

"Very good, The Emperor protects." Novilias finished

"The Emperor protects" replied Tiberius as his fleet closed on the Ork vessels.

"Boss! Deys launchin' Torpedoes!" One of Dakwot's bridge crew called out.

"Get dem Flyboyz out der'. Get 'im ter intacept dem before dey hit us." Dakwot yelled. The opening salvo of torpedoes from the Imperial fleet was expected from Dakwot. Having fought the Imperial Navy several times, the ork fleet commander had picked up an understanding of their basic strategies and learnt to counter them. He watched as hundreds of tiny specks of red and blue streaked out from the hulk's gargantuan hanger bays and careened in the general direction of the incoming Imperial salvo. Small puffs of plasma and rocket impacts started filling space, indicated where either a torpedo had been hit or an unlucky pilot had flown into one.

"We'ze nearly in effective gun range boss." Another ork reported. This was unusual for orks. Most ork vessels would blaze away wildly at range before closing in to board an enemy vessel. Dakwot however, was unusually restrained for an ork. A timer appeared on the screen, ticking down slowly. As it reached zero, Dakwot broadcast on the entire fleets' frequency. "Let 'em have it ladz! WAAAGH!" Returning to his crew, he pointed at an Imperial Lunar class cruiser. "FIRE!" He yelled.

Tiberius watched in astonishment as the vast majority of his torpedo wave was destroyed. While most of the massive ship killing torpedoes didn't make it through the massive screen of ork interceptors and others were picked off the massed amounts of point defence fire from the ork ships, a few made it through to impact on the hulls of the ork vessels. A dozen bright explosions filled the pict screen as the vessels were crippled by the massive torpedoes. "Long range batteries entering range sir" an officer said, "Permission to open fire?"

"Permission granted" Tiberius responded as his fleet's guns started unloading building sized projectiles towards the ork fleet.

The two fleets opened fire at almost the same instant. Lines of fire streaked across the empty void, closing with their targets. Bright balls of superheated plasma boiled through the hulls of ships or dissipated on their shields. Massive shells rocked ships with the force of their explosions. Thousands of fighters, bombers and boarding craft flew through space, dodging and weaving nimbly through the rain of fire and engaging each other in a swirling melee. Imperial ships delivered broadsides which would have flattened cities into the ork armada. The Orks responded with impossibly their impossibly huge guns which overloaded shield generators and blasted holes in the Imperial vessels. Lances of unimaginable power ripped through ork ships, bisecting the hulls like it was wet paper, hordes of Ork boarding craft overwhelmed the point-defences of several Imperial ships, managing to land thousands of ork warriors upon each one. In essence, it was pure chaos.

Dominating their respective sides was the Ork hulk and the Space Marine Battle barge.

Dakwot was having the time of his life. The Space hulk had already destroyed three imperial vessels single handily and was busy pounding another into oblivion. He watched the stricken vessel, a Tyrant Class cruiser, buckle and shake under each of his powerful shots. As he closed the distance, the prow heavy gun batteries opened up. The mixture of heavy slugs and plasma ripped the ship apart. The Tyrant's plasma reactor must have overloaded as the ship exploded in a massive wave of blue and white fire. An ork Savage gunship which had the misfortune to be close enough to the ship was caught in the explosion and suffered a similar fate. Directing other Ork ships onto targets of opportunity, the Ork captain spotted a juicy target of his own. The Battle barge he had spotted earlier was nearby. It was already engaged with a massive ork battleship. Watching with interest, Dakwot saw the Battle Barge cripple the massive ork Battleship with a flurry of lance shots to its engines. Explosions ripped along up the battleship as a chain reaction was set off. The battleship lost power and was virtually helpless under the guns of the space Marine vessel. A salvo of torpedoes followed by a shot from the ship's massive bombardment cannon at close range doomed the ork vessel. The battle barge fired its massive engines and closed on a new target, an ork Cruiser. Before it powered away, Dakwot considered chasing it but knew the ponderous hulk would never catch it. Instead he directed his attention to the massive Imperial battleship in the heart of the Imperial fleet.

"Sir! The hulk has changed course, its heading straight for us!" an officer manning a station yelled out.

Tiberius swore. While his Emperor Class battleship was powerful in its own right, it was designed for commanding fleet operations and launching strike craft rather than direct combat, and judging from the combat reports, the battleship was a play toy compared to the Ork Space hulk closing on him. He opened up a vox channel to the squadron commander of the Dominator class cruisers he was holding back from the fight. "_Hand of Justice_ this is Fleet admiral Tiberius."

"We copy Admiral" came the reply from the _Hand of Justice_

"The Ork Hulk is closing on the main fleet; I need to you concentrate your fire on it."

"Will do sir"

The channel clicked off.

Tiberius watched as the ships opened fire with their prow mounted nova cannons. Three streaks, traveling too fast for the eye to follow flew through space and impacted on the ork hulk in a blossom of fire. The bridge crew cheered at their apparent victory.

"Hold on sir, I'm still reading a contact… The hulk sir… It's still there.

"Impossible…" Breathed Tiberius, "Nothing could survive that."

The hulk came on through the inferno like it was nothing. An extreme ranged shot from its dorsal lance battery skewered one of the Dominator's prows and crippled the ship. Other shots from its portside weapons batteries caused the squadron of cruisers to scatter.

"It's like throwing eggs at a brick wall…" One of the officers muttered.

Dakwot laughed at the attempt on the hulks destruction "We'ze too tuff fer dat 'umies!" He yelled as if the Imperial admiral were right in front of him. While several systems had taken damage from the Dominator's barrage, the hulk was still combat effective. He bore down on the comparatively tiny Imperial battleship.

"FIRE, FIRE EVERYTHING" Screamed Tiberius as the hulk closed in. Panic had started to enter his voice as he realized his imminent doom approaching. The numerous weapon batteries studded along the ship opened fire in desperation, some scarring the surface of the space hulk but most being absorbed by its powerful shields.

"Oi! Dey's scratching da paint job!" Dakwot joked at the battleships feeble attempted to bring the hulk down. "Show 'em what real dakka is!" The deck shuddered underneath him as the hulk opened fire with its guns.

"Shields failing admiral! We simply can't withstand firepower of that magnitude!"

The report was emphasised by the wailing of alarms and klaxons as the mighty ship's shields failed and the hull started taking damage. A lance struck the ship ahead of the bridge and to Tiberius' dismay; the shot emerged out the other side of his ship, gutting it completely. Suddenly calm, he turned to his bridge crew. "We did our duty f-" was all the Admiral managed to say before another lance bore clean through the bridge atomising him in an instant.

"Holy Gork!" Swore Dakwot "All power to da engines, burn retros and back up!" as the battleship suddenly exploded in a blue and white ball of fire. The explosion expanded and rolled over the hulk. The impressive pyro-technical display didn't end there. A swirling vortex of immaterial energy started consuming the ship and everything around it. The vortex pulsed with a sickly purple energy before suddenly imploding on itself. The Battleship was suddenly sucked from reality as its warp engines failed and overloaded. A vast seething wave of energy replaced the ship for an instant before winking out of existence. Dakwot thanked Gork and Mork that he hadn't been closer, if he had been, the hulk may have been pulled through the rift as well to an almost certain doom. Regardless of this, his hulk had sustained considerable damage from the overloading plasma reactor and the sudden stop. Looking at the displays he realized that the majority of the Imperial fleet had been driven off and was currently retreating to the other side of the planet. Despite his victory, Dakwot realized that the imperials had still managed to offload most of their transports. He watched the enemy fleet retreat he noticed the Battle barge again. Vowing to himself that he would blow that accursed ship apart, Dakwot started reorganizing the fleet and started repairs.

Tankkrusha was in a council of war with Groznob when the messenger arrived. Tankkrusha was privy to these meetings not only because he was the Warlord's top mek, but an excellent (for an ork anyway) tactician.

The warlord looked at the runty grot with distaste before taking the message he was carrying. He pretended to read it for a moment (In truth Groznob couldn't read) before throwing it to Tankkrusha to read aloud to the assembled Ork warbosses.

"Well akkording ta dis 'ere message from Admural Dakwot, da humie fleet got most of their boyz off before he chased dem away." Tankkrusha summarised, saving the vast majority of the bosses from scratching their heads in confusion.

"'ow many?" One of the warbosses asked

"Well, da esteemed Admural rekons 'bout thirty five transports full of 'umiez plus 'owevar many Space murheens da battle barge was 'olding."

"'Ow manyz dat?" the same boss asked again.

Tankkrusha refrained from sighing in exasperation and punched some numbers into a little device he called a 'calkulata' "'Bout free hundred-fousand 'umiez if dis fings werkin right, plus about two hundred murheens."

The assembled bosses muttered amongst themselves. Groznob's hordes numbered in the millions, so there was no question that the Imperials were outnumbered. But most of the bosses had fought Space Marines before and knew how easily even a small number of them could turn the tide of battle. Having two hundred marines in a single warzone was unheard of to the Orks.

"Dats loadza boyz roight?" one asked.

Tankkrusha face palmed before continuing.

"The uvver problem is now da 'umies got a fleet up dere to." He said while gesturing upwards.

"'ow many ships dey got?" another warboss asked

"If da admural counted roight, his space boyz took out about fifty five ships, a mixture of kroozas, battleships, escorts and transports, he also rekons he damaged about anuffava…" Tankkrusha quickly checked his notes, "thirty or so 'umie ships."

"Dats a zoggin' gud job!" One of the warbosses yelled out

"Yer but 'ow many did we lose?" another queried

"We'ze lost eighty two ships, most of dem being escorts and a few kroozas, we'ze lost one battleship and da hulks pretty beat up as well. Probably unuvva fifty or so are shot up gud and need fixin'"

A silence hung over the Orks. It was broken by Groznob.

"So owz' we going then?"

Tankkrusha thought it over

"We'ze still got about 120 ships in fightin' shape and dey's got a lot less, probably about thirty kombat ships or so. So I fink fer da moment space is pretty much ours. While dere fleet can stop ours from bombin' da planet, dey can't do too much else fer da moment."

Tankkrusha thought some more before continuing

"On da ground, we'ze got more Gargants and stompas being built, we'ze still got more boyz than dey do as well. I fink we'ze got a problem wiff dem Murheen boyz here now but we'ze can deal wiff dem when we need to." Tankkrusha finished

Many of Groznob's smarter warbosses agreed with Tankkrusha.

Groznob stood up and cracked his knuckles.

"Den let's go stomp sum umies!" he bellowed.

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><p>Fun eh?<p>

As usual, thanks for reading! Please leave a review as I would love to hear what you think about my story. If you have any questions queries or quibbles, please send me a PM, I'll get back to you when I can.

I'd also just like to thank Blackspire (an awesome author on his site) for motivating me into writing and being a generally nice and awesome guy to talk to, go check out some of his work if you have to time, it's really good!

Next chapter will be out when it's done... (this week probably because I love writing this story too much O_o)

Later!

Killbles


	10. The duel

Yaaaaay another update! I've finally decided to write a chapter from Groznob's POV.. should be intresting. Right?

**As usual I don't own Warhammer, Orks, Imperial Guard, Space Marines etc. Games Workshop does. No good gits...**

Now, Read on!

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><p>Chapter 10: The duel<p>

The tracks of Groznob's Battlefortress churned up a mixture of concrete, blood and mud as it rolled through another building. While most tank commanders would be hesitant to bring their armoured steeds into such a confined area, Groznob was nowhere near sane. The warlord in question was in the vast red lit troop bay, eagerly waiting for the front ramp to come clanging down and the real fight to begin. Decked out in his suit of Mega-armour, the warlord stood a good meter above the assortment of Warbosses and nobz sharing the hold. Most were similarly outfitted in suits of Mega-armour which was gaudily painted or bedecked with trophies from their slain enemies. A few Trophy racks proudly displayed a space marine helmet or two. These Orks were Groznob's personal guard, a mix of his most trusted Warbosses and drinking cronies, veterans of countless battles, who would literally follow their leader into hell and back (and take his spot as soon as the opportunity arose).

Glaring at the light panel set in the wall against the assault ramp with poorly concealed patience, Groznob willed the light green. He knew that when the green light came on, the ramp would drop and he'd get the chance to stomp something. The light however, stubbornly stayed red. Grumbling to himself, he hauled his vast bulk up to a vision slit and peered through. His vision of the outside world was obscured by the inside of some kind of building. Suddenly, the battlefortress lurched as it smashed through another wall, sending Groznob sprawling to the floor. As he was helped back to his feet by a pair of nobz, Groznob noticed a small red and green stain on the floor. "Whoops..." he muttered, unconcerned for the grot he had just crushed. Returning his attention to the vision slit, he finally got a good view of the battlefield.

The vast hordes of Groznob's Waaagh! had launched another attack on one of the remaining hives. This time though, the Imperials were ready for their attack and things had not gone quite as smoothly. A constant barrage of artillery fire punch holes in the ground and threw up large plumes of earth, squadrons of Leman Russ tanks lumbered forth and did battle with a horde of ramshackle ork vehicles, A trio of large titans blasted impossibly powerful shots into the massed ranks of orks and traded fire with Groznob's gargants. A blinding explosion filled the viewport as one of the smaller gargants destroyed by the combined fire. A massive set of trench works had been dug in front of the Hive's walls. Bellowing to his driver to go faster, the battlefortress turned towards the trench network and gained a sudden burst of speed as the supercharger was activated. A few missiles came towards the massive tank from the Imperial gun line but exploded harmlessly against its thick armour. Groznob heard a loud crunch and the squealing of metal as the Battlefortress literally rolled over an Imperial tank too slow to get out of the way. Pulling himself away from the vision slit, Groznob pushed his way to the front of the throng and watched the light again. "Roight lads, any moment now dis 'ere assault ramp is gunna drop and we'ze gonna jump out and do sum stompin'! You'ze ready? WAAAGH!" Groznob unleashed a mighty war cry as the light suddenly flashed green, the assault ramp dropped and a torrent of lasgun fire struck him.

Groznob stomped down the ramp, almost throwing himself at the closet bunch of guardsmen he could find. The guardsmen fired their puny guns into the rampaging warlord with no real effect; small craters started to appear on the surface of his armour where the lasguns had struck him. Still bellowing a mighty 'WAAAGH!' the warlord smashed into his foes like a freight train. Several of his opponents were turned to paste as several tonnes of metal and Ork thundered into them. Swinging his power claw in great arcs, the warlord sent more of his enemies to ground in pieces. Groznob's entourage smashed through the Imperial lines like a hammer, leaving scores of dead guardsmen in their wake. Suddenly without warning a beam of ravenous energy consumed a trio of the nobz, atomising them in a flash. Wheeling around to face this new threat, Groznob saw half a dozen space marines wearing heavy suits of armour backed up by what looked like a space marine dreadnought. _'Holy mork_, Groznob thought to himself, _Dese' Murheen boyz must be like mega-nobz, dey sure looks tuff!' _Groznob roared again and led the remainder of his bodyguard towards the advancing marines.

Captain Agemman barked out rapid orders. The five veterans in terminator armour hastening to obey. The orks were much closer now and his five battle-brothers opened fire with their storm bolters, mass reactive slugs spewing from the twin barrels. Agemman possessed no such weapon himself; in its place was a large ancient storm shield designed to protect it's wielder from the most grievous of blows. The volley hit the orks, the majority of the lighter armoured ones were cut down in an instant as the hail of explosive bolts ripped them apart. The larger, more heavily armoured ones shrugged it off, their armour protecting them from the worst of the fire. Hefting the relic blade he carried before him, Agemman waited a moment before he leapt forward with surprising agility. "Courage and honour!" he bellowed before closing the distance with the xenos

The two sides clashed with a sound of crashing metal and battle cries. Although the space marines were outnumbered by the orks, they fought with the skill that came after centuries of doing battle. The presence of a dreadnought didn't hurt their chances either. Fists covered in fields of of crackling energy met crude ork claws. In the space of a few seconds, many of the combatants were down, either ripped apart by powerful energy fields or pulled apart, limb by limb, by massive claws. The dreadnought was death incarnate, every swing of its mighty fist brought death to the Orks. The centre of the fight however, came down to the duel between Groznob and Agemman.

While Agemman was undoubtedly the more skilled combatant, the Warlord was far larger, stronger and almost as fast. While one would think the armour he wore would slow him down, his incredible strength allowed him to move in it as if it was nothing. Groznob whipped out with a powerful swipe of his claw which the captain skilfully dodged with superhuman agility, he threw his blade out, seeking the warlord's extended arm. Groznob didn't leave it out long enough for Agemman's blow to land. The two opponents circled each other warily, each realising they were in for the fights of their lives.

"Die humie!' Groznob yelled at the circling captain

"You first Xeno" replied the Space marine

"Fat chance yer weedy git!" Groznob spat before leaping into the fight once more. His first strike missed the Captain by a hair and his second was blocked by the shield in the space Marines left hand. A shimmering field of energy leapt between his claw and the shield as the two devices energy fields joined and separated. The captain sprang back at Groznob with a flurry of furious blows. Impossibly Goznob found himself on the defensive, only able to block the rain of attacks directed at him. He felt pain as the shimmering blade cut deep into his left arm. The blow was followed by a bash from the storm shiled to his head. Sent reeling by the blow, Groznob was momentarily pushed off balance. Seeing his opportunity, the captain sprung forward to deliver the _Coup de grace _to the stunned warlord. Reacting on instinct, Groznob rolled his left shoulder in front of him. He heard a loud cutting sound and a stab of pain at his shoulder. Determined not to lose to the tiny human in, Groznob surged back to his feet and lashed out with his right arm, the surprise blow sent the captain flying a few meters. It was then that Groznob realised that his entire left arm had been hacked off, leaving a ragged stump in its place. Groznob ignored the injury and stomped towards the prone form of the captain. Without hesitating he placed one of his massive iron boots on the grounded marine and started crushing him. Despite his incredible strength, the suit of armour the captain was wearing showed no signs of damage. Roaring in frustration Groznob leant down and stared the captain right in the face. "You fink you'ze can beat me?" he stated flatly. "I'z da biggest, baddest ork. And you'ze just a no gud weedy murheen." He ripped off the marines left arm with his claw for emphasis. The captain roared in pain and increased his efforts to free himself from under the warlord. "You'ze humiez are too pink n' squishy, not green and tuff like da boyz. You see dat humie? "he gestured towards the Ork tide spilling over the Imperial trenches. "Dis is why we'ze gonna beat you ta pieces, we'ze da Orkz and we'ze da best!" He was about to bring his claw down in the captains face when suddenly a massive fist wrapped around him and hauled him off his feet with a violent tug. "You will not harm the captain, Xenos scum" boomed the dreadnought before hurling the warlord away.

Groznob pulled himself to his feet and stared down the blue behemoth before him. Although the dreadnought was a good five meters tall, he stared right through the vision slit. "I'll do wut a fraggin' want ta do!" he bellowed at the war machine. "No zoggin' humie tellz me wut ter do!" Unfazed at his injuries, or his massive opponent, Groznob charged at the Dreadnought. He dodged its swinging fist and brought himself within the war machines reach. He curled his fist up and punched the dreadnought with all his might. A brief moment of resistance was all he felt as the energised field of his claw tore through the adamantium armour like it was wet paper. The dreadnought recoiled with what sounded like a cry of pain before it lashed out again. Groznob was in no position to doge the strike but instead struck his claw out again. Even as the dreadnought's fist was wrapped around him, the Warlord struck a killing blow to the mighty machine. Pulling himself from the grip of the humongous fist, Groznob clambered on top of the dreadnought and bellowed a might war cry. His cry was sudden echoed by countless voices and to the Warlord's dismay a green tide of Orks swept around the fallen dreadnought. Before the tide overwhelmed him, Groznob looked for the fallen captain, but all he saw where the captain had lain was a severed arm lying in the mud. Feeling slightly disappointed that he wouldn't get to mount the space marine's helmet on his trophy rack, Groznob stomped back to his battlefortress. It was only when he entered the troop bay did the pain from his injuries catch up to him and he passed out.

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><p>A new nemisis? *gasp* I've already got so many! Sure, why not!<p>

Anyway, thanks for reading, leave a review if you feel so inclined. I'd appreciate to hear what you think about my epic story of epicosity. As usual any questions, queries or quibbles don't hesitate to send me a message.

Later!

Killbles


	11. A plan emerges

IT LIIIIIVEESSS. Well... It never really died, I've just been focused on getting my other story started up. Yes it's a MLP fic but apparently it's good (or so people tell me!)

Anyway, sorry for not updating this sooner, here is chapter 11!

Ruffjaw: It's never consistently stated whether Orks have red or black blood. I personally think they have a mix.

**As usual I don't own Orks or Warhammer. Games workshop does.**

Now, read on!

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><p>Chapter 11: A plan emerges<p>

Tankkrusha stomped around his mek shop in a huff. He had just had a row with the Groznob's dok. They had both had differing opinions on how to fix the Warlord's severed arm. The dok had insisted that he simply reattach Groznob's old arm while Tankkrusha had insisted a brand new bionic replacement. Groznob had taken to Tankkrusha's suggestion on the account that the new limb would be stronger and shiner than his old arm. Tankkrusha found himself with a problem though. He couldn't quite figure out what was wrong with his design. Something seemed to be missing. At the moment Groznob's new augmetic limb shone dully under a trio of bright work lights. Tankkrusha had shaped the end into a large fist so the Warlord would be able to grasp objects and more importantly, crush heads when he needed to. Suddenly the solution hit him. "Not shooty enuff." Tankkrusha mumbled to himself. He worked his way over to a spile of 'gubbinz' in the corner. While he could easily manufacture a gun for the limb, a weapon in the pile had caught his eye. Pulling it out with a grunt, Tankkrusha examined the heavy calibre six barrelled assault cannon he held. "Dis'l do" he muttered to himself as he carried the gun back to the arm and started mounting it on the wrist.

Groznob flexed his arm experimentally. He was met with the sound of scraping metal as he opened and closed his fist, for some reason Tankkrusha jumped out of the way when the Warlord closed his fist. "Looks zoggin' gud Tankkrusha." He said

"Er… fanks boss. Do yer like da shoota?" Tankkrusha enquired

Groznob examined the Assault cannon which had been mounted on his arm. He nodded his head in approval. "Need ta test it." He said grinning. He took a few steps outside and and raised his arm. Nothing happened. "Oh right, you'ze gotta close yer fist and fink about shootin boss." Tankkrusha explained

Groznob did as instructed and suddenly a hail of slugs spat out of the barrels and tore through a thin sheet of metal. He turned the gun on a trukk parked nearby. The sheer volume of shells ripped the ramshackle vehicle apart. The barrage continued for a few more seconds until the gun ran out of ammo with an audible click-click-click-click. Groznob lowered his arm with a somewhat disappointed look.

"Dat's zoggin gud. Why'ze I got ter close me fist dough?"

"It's like a safety so yer don't aksidentlly fire it. Had ta put it in after da first few tests cause I kept losing too much stuff." Tankkrusha explained simply.

Groznob imagined the destruction the gun would have caused in the Mek's shop.

"Jus dun go shoving it in uvva people faces when you'ze mad. Might aksidently shoot der 'ead off" Tankkrusha cautioned.

"Yer roight, whateva'" grunted Groznob hefting his new arm clumsily. Tankkrusha made a mental not to himself to stay away from the Warlord for a few days while he got used to his new arm.

Groznob indicated to Tankkrusha to follow him. Falling in step with the hulking Warlord, Tankkrusha hesitantly asked "Sumfing wrong boss?"

"Iz need a smartboyz opinion on sumfing. Dis 'ere hive we'ze attackin is a bit too strong. Dem humiez have got too much dakka. We'ze still got enuff boyz ter take it but I fink we'ze gonna lose a lot ter do so. I want yer ta fink of some way we'ze can take da hive wifout losing too many ladz."

Tankkrusha was momentarily taken aback by Groznob's statement. HE had rarely seen the Warlord put any tactical thinking into… well... anything. "Wot 'ave I got ta werk wif boss?" Tankkrusha enquired.

Groznob stopped and looked at him with his beady eyes.

"Everyfing."

"I've got it boss" announced Tankkrusha to an incredulous Groznob a mere two hours later. The Warlord peered around, trying to spot the Mek's latest invention. Much to his surprise he saw nothing out of the ordinary. A loud boom sounded in the distance, interrupting the Warlord. He had mostly gotten used to the constant rumble of combat that came from the massive battlefield outside the hive a few kilometres away. Wondering what trick the mek was playing at Groznob narrowed his eyes and glare at the mek. "Wot's you got den?"

Tankkrusha fished a small device, a flattish rectangle about a meter wide out from a bag he was carrying. Groznob noticed the bag held five more of the devices. The devices themselves were fairly plain but crude. A few knobs and dials adorned one of the sides. Tankkrusha hefted one of the devices in the air for the Warlord to examine.

"Wot's it do? Blow up or sumfing?" Groznob asked clearly confused.

"No boss, it's dead simple. It's a lokater bekon"

Groznob looked at Tankkrusha dumbly

"Ok… Ize figured it out. We'ze plant about free or four of dese close around da hive and dey'll send a signal to da fleet. Den one of da big ships in orbit will know were ta shoot it up good n' proppa."

Groznob was surprised with the simplicity of the idea. "How'ze we gonna get em inta position dough?"

"Dat bit might be a bit harda… Ya see, we;ze gotta get im in close so we'ze need somefing sneaky to get dem dere. I know youze dun like dem sneaky boyz but I fink deys gonna be da best way to get dem in."

Groznob scowled, he trusted Kommandoes as far as he could throw a tank. (Which is actually a fair way but that's not the point…) He thought that their methods of sneaking around were downright unproper and unorky. "Alright den…" he grunted "Get da wurd out, we'ze need sum of dem sneaky ladz."

"On it boss"

Two days later Groznob was holding a small council of war with his top bosses. He was about to explain the best way to launch an assault on the hive when he was suddenly interrupted.

"I 'eard you need my lads" came voice. Although clearly an Ork voice, the speech was more refined than most Orks could ever hope for. The voice also possessed something else. The voice sent tingles down Groznob's spine and set his nerves or edge. (But he'd never admit that).

"Alright, yer can come out yer smart git. Stop hiding like a runt." Groznob yelled

A shadow detached itself from the roof and slide towards the Warlord. It resolved itself into the form of a large ork. The ork was laden down with equipment and he carried two large sheathed knives, He hung onto a support beam with a brawny hand before deftly dropping to the ground silently. The ork stood up crossed his broad arms and glared at Groznob. Every Ork in the room immediately knew who this was. Groznob glared at the interloper. "Boss Snikkrot, 'ow nice of yer ta drop in."

Snikkrot was undoubtedly the most notorious Ork ever. His infiltration skills were legendary. It was widely believed that he had to, Snikkrot could walk across a minefield, in broad daylight while covered in bright yellow war paint and he still wouldn't be seen. Groznob was amazed that the legendary commando was even here. He had heard that the Boss was fighting on Armageddon under the command of the proclaimed Prophet of the WAAAGH!, Ghazghkull Thraka. How he gotten himself here was a mystery that only Snikkrot himself knew.

"Wut do yer need?" Snikkrot asked, getting straight to business.

Groznob threw one of the locater beacons to the kommando boss who started investigating it with curiosity.

"I need ya ter plant about four or five of des 'ere lokator bekons around da hive. My mek, Tankkrusha has made up a map fer dem to be placed." He handed Snikkrot the aforementioned map. He turned his back to the kommando before continuing "Youz gotta get dis right, I'ze want ta get dis right da furst time and I don't want ta-"

"Er, boss?" One of Groznob's lieutenants interrupted him. "'eze gone"

Groznob span around to see Snikkrot no longer there and several confused warbosses.

"'Ow da zog did he do dat!"

"Dunno boss, 'e just vanished."

Groznob shook his head in amazement before dismissing the kommando from his thoughts.

"Now as I was saying…"

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><p>Yay... Kommandoes! And Snikkrot! I have really wanted to add a chapter or two about a bunch of Orks sneaking about for a while now ... so... yeah...<p>

Hope you enjoyed this chapter, leave a review if you feel so usual, any questions, queries or quibbles can be directed to me through a PM.

Later!

Killbles


	12. Sarge

Oh hai! Long time no see. Sorry aboutthe lack of updates to this story, I've been busy working on another story and with work and uni and stuff. Anyway, here's the first part of the 'Kommando' chapters. I'll probably write about three or four chapters focused on the the characters in this chapter. Anyway, I really enjoyed working on this chapter and I hope you enjoy reading it.

As usual, I don't own Warhmmaer 40K or anything like that, Gamesworkshop does.

Now, read on!

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><p><strong>Chapter 12: Sarge<strong>

Sarge raised a gnarly green hand and motioned his commandos to stop. Up ahead, dim lights were coming into view through the dense forest. Making a few crude hand gestures, he ordered his mob to fall back a short distance so he could brief them. The seven members of the kommando mob had been slinking through the equatorial jungles that surrounded their target. They had run into several Imperial patrols, but using a combination of cunning and camouflage, they had evaded detection so far.

Slipping through the dense foliage to where the small group of boyz had gathered, Sarge pulled out a crude map and a thick cigar. He passed the map to 'Nav', the mob's smart boy. Nav took the map and set about working out where they were. Sarge grunted at the two weapon specialists he had brought along, Rok and Torcha. Rok was lugging a compact rocket launcher along with several fragmentation and armour piercing warheads, while Torcha fiddled with a fuel pump on his burna. Torcha wore a heavy duty gas mask which obscured his face.

"Oi, Slinkk" Sarge grunted, "Shut yer yap. And you, Kutta, pay attention!"

"Sorry bos-." Kutta's response was cut off by a blow to the head

"I said ter call me Sarge!" Sarge scolded.

"Right bo-… erh Sarge"

Sarge shook his head in exasperation He stood up again and moved next to Nav, in an attempt to conceal that he had totally forgotten what he was about to tell the assembled kommandoes.

"Roight, where da zog are we?" he asked Nav quietly

"If dis tracka is werkin' roight, we should be about 'ere." He pointed to a location on the map not far from the hive. An Imperial outpost had been marked on the map in the vicinity of where they were.

"Roight, Slinkk, I want yer to skout ahead and find out 'ow many 'umies are in dis 'ere outpost. Don't let dem see ya and don't kill any of 'em. Dun want dem ter know we'ze 'ere yet. Got it?"

"Roight Sarge." Slinkk replied before creeping away. Although a talkative and excitable Ork, Slinkk was one of the sneakiest Orks Sarge had ever seen. He was sneaky enough that he had managed to out-sneak an Eldar ranger a few years back. Sarge was sure the young Ork had spent too much time around Snikkrot.

"Rok, go wif Marx and find a spot to provide cova fire when we'ze storm da outpost."

The two Orks nodded in affirmative before heading off through the dense Jungle

Marx was an amazing (for an ork anyway) marksman. His suppressed shoota was made from a looted Imperial sniper rifle. Marx tended to be much quieter than the rest of the mob. He never really mixed with the rest of the boyz well. Rok on the other hand was less subtle than a ton of bricks. His weapon reflected his personality. In addition to the rokkit, he carried several demolition charges. To say he liked explosions would be an understatement. He was also very cunning and tactical, which made him right at home with the kommandoes.

"Nav, Kutta, Torcha, you'ze wif me. When Slinkk gets back, we'ze gonna go in fast and hard. Try ter take em out before dey can raise da alarm." He flexed his augmetic hand; his real one had been ripped off by a genestealer almost a decade ago, and smashed into the ground softly for emphasis. "Any questions?"

The assembled Orks collectively shook their heads and got themselves ready for the impending fight. Torcha flicked his burna down from its cutting flame to flamethrower, Kutta pulled out a pair of wickedly sharp knives and tried to decide which one to use, Nav pulled his night vision goggles on and checked the suppressor on his slugga. Sarge simply pulled out a large six chambered revolver, his augmetic hand was strong enough to punch through sheets of metal. They waited with unusual patience for Orks for Slinkk to return.

A quiet rustle announced the return of Slinkk. He slithered past Kutta and sidled up next to Sarge. "I 'ad a good look at der camp boss, Der's bout furty 'umies I reckon. Dey's got some walker fings dat look like real weedy Dreads. I also saw wut looked der boss. Hes dun look too tuff dough, dunno 'ow he's da boss."

Sarge clapped him on the back. "Good werk. Now git ready fer a fight, we'ze gonna take em down."

"Roight you are Sarge."

He slipped away. Once he had readied himself, Sarge ordered the five kommandoes forward. Hoping that Marx and Rok had found a good position to give supporting fire from, Sarge advanced on the Imperial outpost. He pointed two fingers at Kutta and Slinkk then at motioned at a pair of sentries a few meters in front of them. Understanding his message, the two kommandoes snuck forward. A quiet gurgle and a muffled thud followed by another informed Sarge the task was successful.

"Drag dem back 'ere," he said quietly. "We'ze gonna try and take as many out before dey see us. Creeping towards the perimeter, the Kommandoes dispatched of another pair of sentries in a similar fashion. The group was now only a few meters away from the fence bordering the encampment.

"Kutta, snip da wire."

Kutta glanced around before dashing out into the open. Pulling a pair of wire cutters out of a pouch, he expertly cut the wire. Motioning to his compatriots, he moved into the compound. The remaining four kommandoes slipped in after him. Crawling under a prefabricated barracks, the mob hid from another pair of sentries.

"Slinkk, Kutta, dis looks loik one of dem 'umie huts. Get in der, and see if dere's anyone inside." Sarge whispered. "Quietly." He added after he saw Slinkk pull out a grenade.

"Sorry boss." Slinkk replied

Sarge gave him another whack on the head "Dats Sarge yer git!" he uttered angrily.

Without replying, he and Kutta crawled out from their hiding spot and entered the barracks quietly. A few minutes passed. The sentries returned from their round just as the two orks re-emerged. Sarge cursed their luck as the crack of ionising air split the night as one of the sentries fired at the kommandoes, the shot missed but sent the two orks back into the barracks for cover. Pulling himself out of the crawl space, sarge charged at the two sentries with a loud roar. Having a large, angry Ork come at them from behind them was not what the Guardsmen expected and they were both cut down by swift blows from the Nob. Leaving the two broken bodies, Sarge rallied his mob as the base sprung to life. A dozen voices were yammering loudly, Guardsmen were pouring out of their quarters, the few still on duty running towards the source of the fighting. Suddenly a loud explosion broke the night as a rocket flew out the darkness and exploded against one the barracks. Several screams were heard as the occupants were cut down by shrapnel.

"Enuff sneakin' ladz! Up and at em!" Sarge bellowed. He fired his pistol into a small group of Guardsmen and blew one of his feet. Another fell, presumably from Marx's sniping. Torcha emerged from underneath another barracks and ambushed another group; he hosed them down with his burna, sending the Guardsmen into panic as their comrades ignited. A burst of lasgun fire caught Sarge across the arm. He staggered slightly from the blow before letting off a quick burst of fire back at the offending guardsman. Ducking behind a nearby crate, Sarge watched as his Kommandoes slaughtered their way across the small compound. Another rocket impacted against one of the parked walkers which Nav had called 'Sentinels'. Another fireball shot up into the sky as its fuel cells ignited. Kutta was brought down by a hail of lasgun fire, his body full of cauterised holes. Sarge threw himself back into the fight; he crushed another head with his fist and emptied the last of his pistol's clip into another guardsman. Only a few stragglers remained after the Kommandoes brutal assault. Clearing the last of resistance from the compound, Sarge started sweeping and clearing the remaining buildings. Most of them were empty, their previous occupants now dead outside. As he and Nav smashed in the door on the final building however, a cry greeted them.

"Wot's he sayin?" asked Sarge. As they had smashed in the last door, a uniformed human had cried out something Sarge didn't understand. Nav did however and whatever the Human had said had a reaction on the Kommando. Nav hesitantly lowered his pistol and gestured to Sarge to do the same.

"E' doesn't want us ter kill em." Nav explained when Sarge didn't lower his gun.

"Well Iz want ter kill im. Wot good is 'e alive?"

"'e says if we don't kill em, e'll give us sum valuable informashun."

Sarge lowered his pistol a fraction.

"Alright, wot's e got?"

Nav spoke to the human. Although Sarge was fairly smart, he had never bothered to speak or understand Imperial Gothic.

"Sarge e says he knows lots of stuff. It's probably stuff da big boss would want ter 'ear."

Sarge scowled, he didn't want to have to send a Kommando back to camp with this human in tow. He was one Ork down already and they still had their primary mission to complete.

"Alroight. Get Marx and get 'im ter take dis git back to da Warlord. I dun loike doing dis but if yer reckon wat e knows is useful we'ze gotta use it."

"On it Sarge"

Nav muttered something to the human before leaving to find Marx. Sarge scowled at the prisoner. Grumbling to himself, Sarge stomped outside and reorganised the Kommandoes.

"Roight we'ze two down now ladz, so dis 'ere mishun got even tuffer. Nav, you still got that lokater beacon?"

"Roight 'ere boss." Nav replied, slapping a pouch on his backpack.

"Gud, we'ze got ter plant it roight about 'ere." He jabbed at a point on the rough map "We'ze gonna start seeing more 'umies about afta dis. We'ze startin ter git a bit closer now."

"How longz it gonna take Sarge?" Slinkk asked.

"I reckon if we'ze don't run into too much trouble it'll only take anuffa day."

He turned to Marx.

"Try ter get da humie back ter da camp in one piece. If yer can't, no big deal, but at least try."

"Sure fing sarge."

"Alright yer gitz, let's get movin'"

The group of kommandoes dispersed and within a minute, the silent ruined compound was all the remained.

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><p>Yay, Kommandoes. I'm enjoying writing these, so more to come!<p>

Thanks for reading, please leave a review and tell me what you think. Any questions, queries or quibbles can be directed to me via a PM.

Thanks again.

Later!

Killbles


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